Magi: Secrets of the New World
by oO Yuki Echizen Oo
Summary: Luscious dark blue hair, deep blue eyes, veiled beauty - her face isn't her only mystery. Who is the High King's enigmatic new love interest? Join Sinbad in finding out her unbreakable bonds to Al-Tharmen and the Old World! Magi Alternate World/Ending.
1. The Ascension of the New High Priestess

**DISCLAIMER:** _Magi_ and other discernible characters/quotes/citations belong to their respective authors. I do not own original content, _Magi_. No profits were made.

 **COVER CREDITS:** MAGI THE LABYRINTH OF MAGIC BY SHINOBU OHTAKA (c). Cover Credits: Original Fan Character by Aladdin.

Cited: magi. Fandom wiki

 **A/N: I have gone back and edited this chapter** **an** **d I am much happier with this than the original version. I hope you guys like it, too.**

 **A/N: School has started back up again, but I want to edit the chapters I have uploaded first** **to give you guys more substance** **, before continuing on. Please bear with me.**

 **#StaySafe #Quarantine2020**

-0-0-0-

 **Magi**

 **Chapter I: The Ascension of the New High Priestess of Samaria**

The first time he'd heard about her was a fleeting moment that escaped him entirely. He was distracted, and frankly, uninterested. He was standing over his desk, his arms firmly supporting his upper body while he leaned over the furniture, lost in the study of the maps of his country, Sindria. He barely noticed the door barge open when Ja'Far entered His Majesty's cabinet in the White Capricorn Tower.

"King Sinbad," the General tried to get his attention, which irked him as it interrupted his train of thought. He knew better than to let his emotions handle him and allow his annoyance to be noticed, though. After all, it could be something important.

Ja'Far continued, "News arrived from the Kingdom of Samaria." He approached the High King of the Seven Seas, who was still leaning over his desk, seeming like he was pretending not to listen. "A new High Priestess has ascended," Ja'Far finished, expecting to stir up some reaction from the King.

It was like an automatic reflex, the King didn't even willfully start to form such thoughts, but his calculating nature had drawn up motives of expanding his alliances with her country before he'd even heard her name. Little did he know, _she_ was about to make ripples in his life that he couldn't have dreamt of.

The King finally elicited some form of response by standing upright, crossing his arms, and rubbing his chin. Granted, his focus was still divided – He couldn't even be bothered to turn around to address Ja'Far. Instead, he walked over to the built-in bookshelves that wrapped around the walls of his office. "Samaria?" He repeated as if trying to recall what Ja'Far said, even though he most certainly heard it just moments ago. He was bobbing his head up and down slowly, along the bookshelves, searching for something. "Isn't that the small country that lies just north of the Dark Continent?"

"That is correct," Ja'Far responded, slightly peeved, but he was used to his King's theatrics.

The King finally stopped joggling his head around and lifted his right arm to pull out one of the books from his tightly packed collection from all over the world. This one was a book that he obtained from his travels to Artemyra. "This is the only book I've found that mentions the country of Samaria. It was given to me by Queen Mira Artemina, that woman was a different kind of animal!" He arrogantly declared, making an even more arrogant _Whoo_ -ing sound at the end of his sentence.

Ja'Far could feel a vein on his forehead twitch, but he knew better than to entertain the King's goading. The womanizing King was definitely starting to get on his last nerve, though. "Well…" He tilted his head, in preparation to deal with the King's attitude, almost in a manner of suppressing his vexation toward his oldest friend, "What does the book say about the Holy Kingdom of Samaria?"

"Let's see," The King cracked open the book and flipped the pages, "Ah! The _Holy_ Kingdom of Samaria was established around 15 to 20 years ago. The nation is well-known for its scenic beauty and friendly citizens. Samaria is home to some of the rarest species of plant and animal life in the known world. The country also has a rare form of government, not a monarchy, not quite a republic either, but more of a… theocracy." The King turned away from the shelves, raising his eyebrow, a calculative idea forming in his head as he walked toward his friend, while still holding the book, "However, for all of its grace, the nation is quite poor and does not have strong trading relationships with any other country. Everything they have…" He closed the book shut, making a loud slam, "…is home-grown."

Ja'Far removed his hand from his sleeve to reach out for the book, "Are you thinking of bringing them into the Alliance by utilizing the Sindria Trade Company?" He advised the King in a manner that allowed Sinbad to think that he was the one to came up with the idea.

"You know, Ja'Far, that's exactly what I was thinking." The King turned the book over to the General.

"I will have a ship readied with some offerings to the new Priestess, then," Ja'Far said as he tucked the book in his sleeve, hiding his hands in his clothing, and resuming his usual prayer position.

The King smiled as he turned to roll up the maps laid out on his desk, maybe feeling the excitement of a brand new conquest. "Let's go pay our respects to this new High Priestess."

Ja'Far leered to his side, disappointedly muttering to himself, " _…I'll pay more than respects to find you an honorable wife finally…_ "

The King acknowledged his adviser's sly remarks with a condescending sneer and simply gave a soft chuckle as he shook his head. "When do we leave?"

"Come to the docks in about an hour and a half, at the next bell toll. Masrur and I should have everything prepared by then," Ja'Far confirmed, and he left the King to his odd hobbies.

After a few moments passed… the tolling of the castle bell could be heard throughout the kingdom, and it was time to leave.

The King lugged around a small sack over his shoulder, filled with a few clothes and some other bare necessities for their travels. He walked to the docks at a relaxed pace, enjoying the sun shining down on his face, tasting the salt in the air, and having little conversations with citizens along the way.

When he reached the dock, he received the usual send-off from the rest of his Generals. The King still traveled quite often, so this was nothing new for them. He stopped in front of the other six generals that were still onshore.

"Try not to get into too much trouble this time, King Sinbad." Hinahoho teased.

"Yeah," Pisti added, "Also, don't forget to bring us souvenirs!"

"Of course. I won't forget." The King chuckled. He turned to address the other Generals as well, "Then, I leave everything to you all, once again. You have my trust and confidence. Thank you."

The six Generals remaining in Sindria smiled and waved them goodbye as they set sail.

They arrived at the port of the Holy Kingdom of Samaria after voyaging the rough seas along the coast of the Dark Continent for four days. The ship's watch was peering through his telescope when he let out a sudden bellow, "Land ho!" to inform the crew that the shoreline had been spotted.

The announcement caught the attention of everyone aboard, making its way to the captain's ears at the helm of the ship. The King gazed upwards to the crow's nest in excitement as he yelled back, "Report!" His voice was trying to cut through the commotion of his crew hard at work as they prepare to dock.

"High reaching mountains, lots of greenery, a small village." The ship's watch turned his telescope to the right, "The only dock is about 30 degrees to the right."

The King turned to address the crew on deck, then he proceeded to bark a barrage of orders, "All hands on deck! Raise the mainsail! Drop the anchor! Prepare to dock!"

The crew rushed to execute the captain's orders, causing the ship to come to a slow halt. The large vessel swayed soothingly on the water next to the worn-out dock, bumping it ever so softly. The King stepped away from the helm. Meanwhile, two members of his crew secured a wooden plank to bridge the gap between the ship and the dock. He stood on the starboard side, taking a moment before stepping offboard, as he gazed down the plank with a steady intent look. Feeling the chilly spring breeze blow gently from the ocean, heralding a change of winds in the King's fate.

The King finally stepped down, making his way onto Samarian shores, after a few moments. A small group of men and women on horseback greeted them on the beach. Most of them appeared to be guards judging by the leather armor they wore, a bow and arrows strapped across their backs, and the spears they grasped in one hand. A couple of them wore long white robes and seemed to be scholars or diplomats. However, the defining characteristic of their attires were the veils worn by each member of the welcoming party. It served to conceal everything below their eyes. Sinbad has seen stranger things, so he decided to ignore his piqued curiosity. After all, he did not want to offend their hosts by questioning their customs just a few minutes after stepping foot in their country.

"That's far enough, gentlemen." The man wearing long white robes showed cautious hospitality, while still on the back of his horse, making the King and the two Generals look up at him. "Who might you be?"

Ja'Far stepped forward, next to his King, "Please forgive our intrusion." He removed his hands from prayer position and extended his right hand across his body to announce the King, "I present to you, King Sinbad of the Seven Seas. We come bearing gifts for your new Priestess to congratulate her on her ascension."

The small welcoming committee exchanged glances with each other, ending with a slight nod, unanimously agreeing to give the Sindrian men a chance to an audience with their new Spiritual Leader.

"Welcome to the Holy Kingdom of Samaria, King Sinbad, _Lady Killer_ of the Seven Seas," The other woman wearing long white robes, greeted them with ill-disguised contempt. Has the King offended her before? Honestly, he couldn't remember through the sea of women he's been with.

The King smiled politely at the woman on horseback. Softly whispering to Ja'Far next to him, "I get the feeling they don't like me very much here."

Ja'Far groaned in disappointment at his King. He whispered back, "It _is_ the _Holy_ Kingdom of Samaria… your lecherous depravity you call your ' _charm_ ' is understandably unwelcome here."

The King rolled his shoulders back, pulled his head up higher, and stood up straight, explaining, "Word does travel far. We'll have to work on our image while we are here."

" _Your_ image, you mean?" Masrur exclaimed, still in a whisper. "Just try not to make a mess for us to clean up, _please_."

"Your carriage awaits, King Sinbad," the woman diplomat encouraged their departure as a rickety horse-drawn carriage pulled up behind them.

They loaded their belongings and a few small items to offer the Priestess onto the back of the carriage. The Sindrians boarded, making creaking sounds and being extra careful because the vehicle seemed like it would fall apart just from the wind blowing on it.

As they rode through the town, the King looked out the window and noticed that the country did not have the most aesthetically pleasing architectures, but the reports from his book were accurate about what nature had to offer – abundant greenery, the animals were free to roam about the city. He could tell, even from a distance, that its citizens were remarkably happy, although just south of them was the Dark Continent. The King found all of these observations to be quite odd. The country seemed to be a gem compared to the barren wasteland just below their geography. He pondered, _how bizarre_. _There must be something more than they're leading on._

He observed the rickety houses. Immediately, he jumped to a state of mind of wanting to fix the superficial damages of the buildings. However, he did not fail to notice the well-maintained gardens that made up for the aesthetic of the homes. The window of the carriage almost framed a magnificent picture depicting the simple Samarian life. There were children happily playing in the streets, neighbors greeting each other. He noticed an older woman receiving help from a young couple in harvesting her crops on a small piece of land and, in turn, giving the young couple a portion of those crops, which meant they traded without using any forms of currency. He concluded that Samarians genuinely like helping each other out. Thinking quietly, _how is this sustainable?_

He found the country's modest fashion most interesting – everyone he came across was wearing a white facial veil that covered everything from the nose down, some with a band of gems ornamented across their forehead and simple robes with ropes tied at the waist. Wondering, _why? What are they all trying to hide?_

The carriage finally stopped, halting the King's curious daydreams. They all stepped out, careful not to make any sudden movements that will break the fragile vehicle. The King and his two Generals climbed the front steps of the old castle, noticing it wasn't any less neglected than the town's architecture. Eight armored guards holding spears greeted them.

 _Eight?_ The King thought it was a bit excessive, but they are a bit intimidating, after all.

The guards wearing leather with pointy spears led them into the throne room, where the Spiritual Leader held court and granted all of his or her audiences. The guards fell in two lines, stomping their boots. They turned to face each other at the bottom of the dais, ending their motion with another tap of their spears against the floor. A woman with brown hair and domineering green eyes sat on the throne. Behind her seat, to the right, where the light wasn't shining, stood a woman, also dressed in white robes and a white veil. Her handmaiden, perhaps?

The King felt an immense amount of Rukh emanating from where the Priestess was situated. She was looking down at him from her throne when he met her intense gaze with a softer look as if he knew something she didn't. He did not break eye contact with her as the Sindrians kneeled before the new High Priestess.

Ja'Far kept his head down, as a gesture of respect as he announced, "High Priestess Samara, I present to you the High King of the Seven Seas, Sinbad of Sindria."

"We welcome you, High King," the High Priestess stood up into the brighter light, lowering her eyelids, even more, to look further down at the bottom of the steps where the foreigners knelt. She was also wearing the same long white robes and ornamented veil the citizens use as an everyday garment. Her stern voice was just as intimidating as her glare, "I understand this is the first time you're visiting our country. Please, state your agenda."

"We have brought you offerings to celebrate your ascension, Priestess Samara," The King responded as he stood up with his hands laced behind his back.

"Much appreciated. The pages will show your servants to the pantry." She stepped down the stairs of the dais with her hands behind her back, revealing her small build, meeting the King for a closer look. She stood a whole head lower than the King, but she wasn't any less threatening as she offered, "Tea?"

"Much appreciated," he smiled, reaching to kiss her hand, attempting to use his ' _charm'_ on the Priestess.

"To the garden, then…" she brushed him off, nonchalantly as she walked away.

They exited the throne hall, the King and the Priestess leading the way in front. Behind the Priestess was her handmaiden, and behind the King were his Generals. The same eight Samarian guards surrounded the party as they chatted while walking through the blooming tulip garden, making their way to sit in the gazebo. The Samarian guards turned away from them, Ja'Far and Masrur stood behind their King's seat.

The Priestess's handmaid, a taller young woman, with blue eyes and blue hair, rolled a cart next to them and started serving them tea and biscuits. The King followed the movements of the handmaiden's smooth hands quite intently as she was setting the pot and cups down.

"Thank you," The Priestess cleared her throat as she turned away from her handmaid. She did so in a manner that seemed like she was holding her tongue back from allowing a secret to slip.

The King smiled deviously as if knowing more than he's letting on. "So, tell me the truth…"

The Priestess's eyes darted to meet the King's, almost nervously.

He caught the Priestess's glance just as she was about to pick up her teacup, "When I speak with you, you always have your guard up. When you are quiet, listening to me, your eyes wander to the farthest corners of the vicinity. It's as if you're always waiting for an attack. When we walk, you constantly make eye contact with the guards escorting you as if giving each other signals; but not once, have you looked at your handmaiden in that sense. In fact, during our lovely chat through the garden, you led the way, as she walked behind you along with the palace guards."

The handmaiden was in the middle of pouring the King's tea when he turned his prying gaze towards her. She tried her damndest to avoid making eye contact with him.

The King smiled even more deviously as he was gaining more confidence in his theory. He leaned forward and turned to the Priestess, sitting across from him, "Speaking with you, I feel as though I am talking to one of my trusted generals, but what gave away the obvious were… your hands."

The trickling sound of the tea draining into the cup ceased abruptly. It was replaced by the clumsy thudding of the pot against the table. The handmaiden tried to withdraw her hand back to her body, but not before the King grabbed her wrist. Tension rose quickly in the air. With the blink of an eye, the Priestess drew her punch dagger, concealed in her sleeve. She stood abruptly from her seat as she plunged herself forward to lay her blade perpendicular to the King's carotid. She was ready to cut until she felt the handmaiden's free hand on her fist.

The King reflexively leaned away from the dagger against his neck. A smile nonchalantly forming on one corner of his mouth as he turned toward the handmaid.

"Stand down, Luna. They have bested us." The handmaiden instructed as she also leaned away from Masrur's blade.

The Priestess withdrew her blade back into her sleeve. She was in utter shock, looking at her handmaid's neck, a small flesh wound visible from Masrur's warning attack. She turned to Masrur in disbelief, "Ah… when did you draw your blade?"

The guards, just now turning around after hearing the commotion, "Priestess!" They called out as they braced themselves to point their spears at the Sindrian men.

Masrur also withdrew his knife and concealed it back into his gauntlet. He did so to try not to aggravate the situation further. He and Ja'Far shaking their heads at the ruckus their King has started once again.

"Priestess… your hands are heavily scarred," The King said with an intent smirk, still facing the taller woman with blue eyes and blue hair.

The handmaid finally looked at him through her lashes, studying him.

The King did not let go of the handmaiden's wrist even when their vassals retracted their blades, allowing a small trail of blood to run down her neck, onto her white robes. "Unlike your handmaiden's hands here," he slid his grip from her wrist to grasp her fingers, turning her palm down, confirming his suspicions, "Her hands seem to have been groomed for prayer alone."

"Keen observations, High King." _She_ spoke softly, not trying to take her hand back, "Is that the only thing that gave us away?"

He chuckled casually. "Another odd thing was the immense magoi I sensed when we arrived and when we were walking. Just as I thought, it was emanating from _you_." Only he can deliver an accusation, and still manage to sound charming. "Ah~ That is the reason you walk and stand so close to each other. What a clever trick, literally concealing your Rukh behind a fake Priestess."

Luna, who was posing as the Priestess, kneeled next to them and put her hands in prayer pose. "High Priestess Samara, please forgive me! I have failed in my duty to protect you!"

The Samarian guards followed her lead and kneeled as well, putting their hands in prayer, "High Priestess Samara, please forgive our incompetence!"

"Don't be silly, Luna. Please, everyone, stand up." The handmaiden encouraged, "I hardly think our guests are playing fair."

Sinbad stood almost at eye-level of the true High Priestess, gazing down comfortably, finally letting go of her hand as he grabbed a cloth napkin from the cart, pressing it against the wound on her neck while looking deeply into her large blue eyes, "It is truly an honor to finally meet you, High Priestess Samara…"


	2. The Holy Kingdom of Samaria

**DISCLAIMER:** _Magi_ and other discernible characters/quotes/citations belong to their respective authors. I do not own original content, _Magi_. No profits were made.

 **COVER CREDITS:** MAGI THE LABYRINTH OF MAGIC BY SHINOBU OHTAKA (c). Cover Credits: Original Fan Character by Aladdin.

Cited: magi. Fandom wiki

 **A/N: Here's another EDIT for your viewing leisure.**

 **A/N:** **Special thanks again to December Silentvale & Sumiko the Great, and BB for helping me piece my ideas together and covering up loopholes. Thank you to the readers who support and follow this fic, as well - Happy Reading Y'all! As always, drop any comments or questions in the Reviews or in my PMs.**

 **#StaySafe #Quarantine2020**

-0-0-0-

 **Magi**

 **Chapter II: The Holy Kingdom of Samaria**

The true High Priestess bowed, taking the napkin out of the King's hand, their fingers slightly brushing, "The honor is all mine, King Sinbad."

"Please, call me Sinbad… or Sin, for short," The King bowed back after retracting his hand. He felt a strange, burning sensation where their skin brushed against one another.

"Then, please, let us drop all formalities. You may address me as Samara." The Priestess said gracefully as she helped Luna up from where she was kneeling.

Luna stood behind the chair she was sitting in before, holding a first aid kit she grabbed from one of the guards. Priestess Samara sat down, and Luna bandaged her wound after applying a coagulating ointment.

"Thank you, Luna." The Priestess glanced back at her commander with a smile peeking through the thin veil. She set the slightly bloodied napkin down on the table.

The King sat as well, pouring the Priestess a fresh cup of tea. He always carried this smug atmosphere around him, especially in situations like the one they just had where all of his suspicions were justified.

The Priestess took a sip from her cup, lifting her veil slightly, using her free hand, "I do apologize for all the commotion, Sinbad."

"No need to apologize, Pries—Samara. I completely understand your welcoming strategies." The King responded politely, holding his cup in front of his mouth. "I can't say it's my first, though. Once upon a time, I received a similar welcome from the queen of Artemyra, just east of your kingdom."

"Ah, yes, Queen Mira and I are good friends." She revealed, setting the cup back down on the table.

"Friends?" The King exclaimed, in surprise, making the cup clatter on its saucer as he set it down. His eyes narrowed, his brows crinkled, and his head tilted to the left in confusion, "One of her daughters, Pisti, is one of my Eight Generals. Yet, I haven't heard of any formal alliances between Samaria and Artemyra."

"That's because there are none. The Queen and I have simply been friends for a long time." The Priestess took another sip of tea, lifting her veil a bit, without breaking eye contact, adding to her enigma.

The King chuckled softly at the Priestess's cryptic answer before changing the topic, "Interesting country you're leading here."

"How so?" The Priestess set her cup down, pursed her lips, and squinted her eyes a little bit. Her head also tilting to her left, preparing to be offended.

"I notice that there is no currency involved in your trade. I used to think money controlled the whole world." He waved his right hand in the air, raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head toward the opposite direction of his hand as if challenging her to prove him wrong.

"Have you ever known true peace, King?" She parried, challenging him back with her deep blue eyes as she wrapped her fingers around her teacup, fiddling with the rim.

He maintained unwavering eye contact with her, forcing away the smile beginning to form on his left cheek. He did not want to seem disrespectful by the way he found this woman amusing and frankly, exciting. He was trying to recall the last time he was so engaged in a topic that truly interested him.

She continued, "Here in Samaria, we don't measure wealth by gold or any currency; Here, we measure wealth through happiness, health, and equality."

The King chuckled. His notions about how money makes the world go round slowly getting farther and farther away in his mind. He felt the rush of a new pursuit, and it intoxicated him – she was about to prove him wrong. "How do you measure such things?"

"Walk with me…" The Priestess stood and guided the King towards the edge of the garden, where a viewpoint allowed them to see the rustic city; Luna, Masrur, Ja'Far, and the Samarian guards standing only a few yards away at the gazebo. "Everyone is given an equal opportunity in this country, to be whomever they want to be. The only condition is that they contribute to the greater good – this is how we maintain our peaceful lifestyle."

"An equal opportunity…" The King looked out into the city, his views and opinions starting to push back on her idealism. "Even the throne?"

The Priestess gently smiled while staring at the King's profile, "Even the throne."

"So, anyone can simply… challenge your ruling?" The King turned to the Priestess in disbelief. Thinking in the back of his mind, _You're joking, right?_

She smiled again as if she could read his mind. The silhouette of her smile slightly visible to the King through her veil, "Checks and balances."

"How does that work?"

"Why so interested?" She leaned her lower back against the short wall, "Do you plan to challenge my ruling?"

He chuckled and offered an honest answer, "On the contrary, I aspire to rule my country with your progressive confidence."

"Well, lucky for you," She swung her hands forward then back, the momentum gently peeling her off the wall, "I believe in hands-on learning."

He smirked and held his hand out to the Priestess, "No better way to absorb the culture than to immerse oneself in it."

She looked down at his hand and back up into the King's golden eyes and walked off, ignoring his geniality once again, "Come, see the Samarian way of life."

They walked back to the great hall of the castle; this time, only their generals followed suit. A few castle scholars were teaching several children. A couple of students were studying heat magic, a few were working on healing potions, some were studying arithmetic, and in the corner, they were attempting to build a scale model of the castle.

The Priestess stood by the doorway, allowing the King to peek in, "Once children turn thirteen in this country, they may start schooling to ascend to the throne. The school is right here in the castle, and students are given a well-rounded education. After two years, all the students are tested mentally, physically, and for leadership skills. Students who excel in all three categories are offered a spot to continue onto secondary school for the throne. However, the truly essential students are those who decline, and those not offered a spot because they are given a chance to find their true passion. Some become engineers, doctors, scholars, magicians, farmers; some choose to live a much simpler life – whomever they all want to be. Sitting on the throne has become more about representing the people and their interests; the high priest or priestess holds little governing power over the citizens. The only power given to the throne is assuring the peace is maintained and that everyone's happiness and well-being are protected."

The King shook his head gently, his skepticism evident by an unbelieving scoff, "How do you make it all possible with such limited resources?"

"Skills trade." The Priestess closed the door to the great hall, extending her patience for the King as he tries to wrap his head around their unusual governing style. "This is a country where knowledge is wealth – and that wealth is given to the people, by the people, for the people. The only steadfast law in this country is that you must contribute for the greater good, everything else you need to survive and live a good life are learned skills – the skills learned by every citizen once they start schooling for the throne. Every citizen learns ancient techniques on how to grow crops, cook, build their own houses, defend themselves, even cure common illnesses. So, we have rarely needed to trade with any other countries, nor have we needed to trade with each other with essentially meaningless trinkets such as gold or jewels or money. Besides, the closest countries to trade with is the barren Dark Continent and Artemyra – and well, you know how difficult it is to form trading alliances with our dear friend, the Queen."

They both laughed. This gesture caused the generals who were walking a few feet behind them to exchange foreboding glances with each other.

"Heliohapt actually comes all the way from the northeast corner of the Dark Continent to learn their medicinal practice from us. Come, allow me to show you more." The Priestess turned to her commander, "Luna, we're going into town."

Luna was almost caught off guard once again, due to the Priestess's interaction with the King. She bowed after collecting her thoughts, "Ah, yes, High Priestess Samara." Luna turned to the Sindrian men, "Please come with me. I will show you to your rooms."

The foreign men agreed in unison.

Luna guided the King and his Generals to their respective chambers, where the customary Samarian attire of simple robes and facial veils waited for them to change in. They all exited their chambers once they were outfitted and started walking to the front of the castle.

"Do we all have to wear these veils as well?" Masrur inquired with a slight annoyance, holding the veil in his hands.

"I believe so. It seems customary to the attire as we saw when we rode through the kingdom." Ja'Far replied, fiddling with his own veil, trying to figure out how to put it on.

"I wonder what they are for?" The King questioned further as he also started putting the accessory on.

They all met the Priestess with a smile on their eyes at the top of the castle steps.

"Samarian robes fit you well, gentlemen." The Priestess complimented. She was impressed that they managed to put the garments on correctly, even the facial veil.

"We were wondering what these veils are for? We noticed it is customary for everyone to wear in this country. You didn't even remove it even though we were having tea earlier." The King inquired, tugging on the bottom corner of his veil.

"The long robes hide the body, and the veils hide a person's face, revealing only the eyes which we believe are the windows to a person's soul. The complete attire is a Samarian tradition to prevent any preconceived biases or judgments cast upon a person." The Priestess explained as she started walking down the steps. Then, she turned toward the King, "As for taking the attire off in someone else's presence, it is an intimate gesture between two people in love."

"How romantic," The King responded, a profound need to touch the Priestess's hand washed over him, which took all of his willpower to overcome, "Falling in love with someone's soul first, instead of appearances."

"As you'll see for yourselves when we get into town, in Samaria, we believe that true wealth can never be measured, it is something intangible but fills your simple life with so much meaning. Almost all Samarians eventually dedicate their lives to furthering their learned ancient knowledge to be passed onto the future generations, for the greater good." The Priestess stopped beside the same rickety carriage that the Sindrians rode when they first arrived.

The King opened the door to help her into the carriage. He sat next to the Priestess and his Generals across from them. "Forgive my forwardness, but that sounds like a dream, Priestess."

"Understandably so, but we have years of history to prove the efficacy of our simple way of life." She countered confidently, blowing the King's biased argument out of the water.

"What exactly do you mean by wealth is given by the people?" The King asked, crossing one leg over the other and interlocking his fingers on his knee.

"Hya!" They could hear Luna's faint commands to the horses as she drove the carriage.

"You asked how checks and balances worked in this country – isn't it genius?" They could hear the horses' hooves stomping on the ground as the carriage started to pick up speed, allowing her shoulder to brush up against the King's arm lightly as they rattled inside the small space, "Here, there is no monarchy to monopolize the kingdom's wealth if there is no measurable 'wealth,' to begin with. By giving all the power to the people, you cannot assassinate one single leader. Not one person is more valuable than the next because all the people are valuable together. Samarian wealth is technically immeasurable. At first glance, we seem like a poor country with limited resources, but if you look closely, each citizen chooses their path in life – some farm, some fish, some build, some cure, some teach, but all of us trade with each other based on necessity. Wealth and power come from the citizens' ability to thrive on their own. So, naturally, all governing authority is controlled by the people."

"How remarkably liberal…" Ja'Far commented, perplexity heard in his tone and seen on his expressions.

"Yes, so even the most powerful trading company in the world has nothing to offer us." The Priestess taunted, gently shaking her head at the King while her eyebrows moved higher on her forehead.

The King chuckled mischievously, "I could think of a few things."

Ja'Far scowled at his King, concerned that he might give in to his lascivious nature and carnal desires, as he often does, consequences be damned.

"Is there a judiciary system in place?" Masrur inquired, easing the tension building up in the air.

"As I mentioned to your King, every citizen is taught most of the skills they need at a very young age. Every citizen can defend themselves and those they hold dear. Should a dispute arise, the citizens try to resolve it peacefully, and should a dispute get out of hand, the citizens themselves usually police it and, if needed, bring in scholars to act as mediators."

"That is an incredible amount of trust you put in your people…" The King observed, his eyes glimmering with awe and growing respect for the Priestess.

It was hard not to show her the respect she deserved when just her very gaze commanded it. She stared back into his golden eyes, toe to toe, if you will, with the High King of the Seven Seas, and argued, "That is where you're wrong, Sinbad… _I_ did not put _my_ trust in the citizens of this country – Samaria has been a republic _long_ before I ascended the throne. The cycle of power has always been in the hands of each citizen in Samaria because no one single person should ever oversee and dictate the fates and destinies of anyone else, much less _everyone_ else – that is hubris."

Just when he thought he was getting to know her, she does or says something marvelous that stupefies him. She put him in his proverbial place, yet again. "Astounding sagacity… I conquered seven seas, and I did not accomplish what you have attained here in this incredible country."

"Right, where did _we_ go wrong?" Ja'Far whispered to Masrur sarcastically.

"Progressive confidence, Sinbad." She smiled gently again, steering the mood toward a less tense direction, "Do not forbid any knowledge to the people, and they will surprise you. Give them everything they need to know, and they will make the right informed decisions."

The carriage stopped at the edge of the city. The King looked out of the window before opening the door. He helped the Priestess out of the vehicle once more, and they began walking into the market.

"Good afternoon, Priestess Samara." An older woman, hosting a fruit stand, came up to the group. She was hunched over gracefully, her hair tied up in a bun held the strings to her veil. Her thin, wrinkly hand shakily reached out to the Priestess, and Samara had to bend forward a bit to meet her eyes, "Thank you so much for taking such good care of our granddaughter while she is studying. She always comes home to us at the end of each week with such wonderful stories."

"Granny Mikaya, Yasmin is an excellent student and friend to her classmates." The Priestess clasped the old lady's hands, "Besides, she's the one taking care of us by bringing your apple pies to the castle."

"Ah, yes," The old woman patted the Priestess's hands, "I told her that it is high time she learned to make the recipe on her own."

"That would be delightful, Granny." The Priestess hugged her.

"Oh, it is always so good to see you, Samara." The Granny shuffled into her house, "Come inside, I have something to give you and the kids."

They all followed her inside of her humble home, made of clay. It was a bit tight because of the large Sindrian gentlemen. Nevertheless, Granny Mikaya gave a box of warm pie to Sinbad.

"Why, thank you—" Granny cut the King's sentence short as she started to stack more pie boxes onto his hands, and onto Ja'Far and Masrur's hands.

"Thank you so much, Granny Mikaya." The Priestess hugged her again as the Sindrian men loaded the pies into the carriage.

"You're welcome." Granny turned to Masrur and held his hands, "Now, there was something I could use your help with – My roof has been leaking!"

"Oh, so those fifteen boxes of pies weren't actually a gift?" The King and Ja'Far said in unison.

"Skills trade, gentlemen." Luna enforced with a smile.

While Masrur persevered as a carpenter in exchange for pies, Ja'Far was coerced by twins to help them get their cat down from a tree in exchange for a song and dance, and Luna went to visit her family. The King and the Priestess were finally able to have some time alone. They sat on the pier, dipping their toes into the cold water. The Priestess was playfully splashing a bit of water at the King, giggling through her veil as she turned to look at his profile once more.

The King gazed into the open sea, reminiscing about his brief time in this country and could not help but recall his memories of all the decisions he made leading up to his half-falling into depravity. "I wish I had met you sooner… I'm afraid my hubris has allowed me to become a sly person after accomplishing so much. Sometimes, I do not recognize myself anymore. I feel that I have become someone I never wanted to be…"

"You've met me now…" The Priestess touched the King's chest; she could feel the rukh flowing through him, "Your heart, mind, and soul… have become filled with so much darkness from others, but it is never too late to change if you don't like who you are now. 'Now' is fleeting… Please, allow yourself to shed some ghosts from your past."

The King's heart ached as he held the Priestess's hand against his chest.


	3. Secrets of the Priestess

**DISCLAIMER:** _Magi_ and other discernible characters/quotes/citations belong to their respective authors. I do not own original content, _Magi_. No profits were made.

 **COVER CREDITS:** MAGI THE LABYRINTH OF MAGIC BY SHINOBU OHTAKA (c). Cover Credits: Original Fan Character by Aladdin.

Cited: magi. Fandom wiki

 **A/N: Sooo, you remember when I told you guys I was done editing this? Here's a NEW EDIT, lol. I hope you guys like it! Definitely meatier & delves more into Samara & Sinbad's feelings. ****Thank you for your patience!**

 **#StaySafe #Quarantine2020**

-0-0-0-

 **Magi**

 **Chapter III: Secrets of the Priestess**

It has been nearly two months since the Sindrians arrived in Samaria. During their free time, Sinbad and the Priestess roam in the cities and villages, offering their help where needed, immersing themselves in the simple Samarian way of life.

One early morning, Ja'Far stopped his King on his way to see the Priestess. His experience reminded him to be quick at delivering messages because Sinbad tends to think his advisors are always spoiling his fun. "Sin, we have been in this country for nearly two months. Do we have any plans of going back to our kingdom?"

The King simply chuckled and avoided the question entirely, "Aren't you enjoying yourselves?"

Ja'Far made a worried face, "We are. The citizens of Samaria have been delightful hosts, but we have responsibilities to our citizens. I feel we might be losing track of our objective here. Have you found a way to establish an alliance or even basic trading?"

"He's right, Sin," Masrur weighed in, "Apart from that, we have overstayed our welcome!"

"Ah… nonsense!" The King threw his hands outward playfully, refusing to acknowledge both of his Household Vessels. "The citizens love having us here, and we get to help their communities! We've helped finish their new aqueducts—"

"I think you may have some misguided enthusiasm here, Sin." Masrur cut him off, raising his eyebrow at his King with his arms crossed against his chest.

"Are you sure the citizens love having you around? Or do you enjoy being around the Priestess?" Ja'Far goaded, a hand on his hip and a finger pointing at the King.

"What are you talking about?" The King exclaimed in denial. He put his hand on his chest, endearingly, "I am just trying to establish a good relationship between our two countries! Their customs and traditions are way different than any other country we've been to before, so it's just taking me a bit more time to learn their ways."

Masrur put his hand on his chin and thought deeply, "You know what? Ja'Far is right. You haven't been misbehaving _at all_ these past two months. No drinking, no strange women you're sleeping with…"

"You're trying to get in the Priestess's good graces!" Ja'Far exclaimed suspiciously, "Which is not at all what we came here for!"

Their King simply walked away, explaining under his breath, throwing his hands above his shoulders and his head to the side, "You guys are simply absurd. Aren't you the ones who encouraged me to stay out of any trouble?" He turned his gaze back to the Generals, catching their gaze out of the corner of his left eye, "We _are_ in a _holy_ kingdom, after all."

"This is his first serious conquest of a respectable woman… We might have to stick around for a while to give our King a fighting chance." Ja'Far rested his palm against his face.

Masrur had no witty rebuttal as he thought for a moment, the words of his King striking a chord.

"Ja'Far," Masrur broke his silence, his hand still on his chin, "There is something odd about this kingdom. Why is this country called the _Holy_ Kingdom of Samaria? We've been here for two months, and from what I have seen, the citizens don't seem to practice regular prayer. They have a high priestess, and they treat her with respect, begging for her forgiveness when they fail to protect her, but there are no major temples built around the city or even shrines to worship in any of the citizen's homes. I haven't seen any other priest or priestess teaching any scriptures either. The children are taught regular school subjects. The citizens here are different from Sasan; besides what the priestess explained about their clothing, there isn't much they do or say that qualifies as 'holy.'"

He wanted to ignore this nagging thought since the Samarians have been such welcoming hosts. However, he wouldn't be a good advisor if he did not have suspicions about everyone and everything, especially since his King has been so distracted upon arriving in this strange country.

Meanwhile, the King looked for the Priestess. He found her in the great hall, teaching the students a lesson about rukh. He leaned against the doorframe and listened through the cracked door.

"Rukh is believed to be the home of all souls. You see, children, when each of our lives were born, we accepted what we call the Rukh's Guidance or more commonly known as Fate – this allows us to live within the Rukh's Great White Flow. However, some try to go against the Rukh's natural flow. They try to go against fate and defy destiny – this creates Black Rukh. It is created from and fuels hatred and malice. Going against Fate degenerates evolution; existence becomes nothing, and destinies become negative – this is called 'falling into depravity.' When people who have completely fallen die, they cannot go back to the Great White Flow."

One of the students raised her hand, "Priestess Samara, if Rukh is the home of all souls, does that mean, when fallen people die, they can never be reunited with the souls of the people they loved in this world?" She asked worriedly.

"Sadly, you are correct, Yasmin." The sadness in the Priestess's voice resonated with her audience.

The whole class murmured. Fear and distress heard from their chatter.

The King felt agitated at how accurate the Priestess's words were. His head weighed heavily on his shoulders as he clenched his fists, jingling his jewelry and equipment.

"Sinbad?" The Priestess called out, "Is that you?"

The King chuckled awkwardly with a hand covering his mouth, and his eyes squinted like a sly fox as he opened the cracked door, "You caught me."

"What are you doing out there?" The Priestess raised her left hand, curling her fingers towards herself to call the King over, "Come inside and sit with us."

The King walked in and stood with hands clasped respectfully behind his back next to the Priestess's seat. "Hello, everyone. Please forgive my interruption of class."

The kids chattered louder, "Oh my, King Sinbad! He's so cool, he's so dreamy~" The King effectively made each young girl glimmer with awe at him, and each young boy's jaw drops in excitement. "Storytime?! Storytime!"

"Well, we are in the middle of a lecture right now, children." The Priestess tried to reorient the class, "I was just about to touch on magoi and magic. Perhaps, King Sinbad might have some useful knowledge to share with us today?"

The King pulled up a chair next to the Priestess. He cleared his throat, excitement obvious from his smirk. After all, a crowd has never fazed him. Anyone who knew the king, also knew he loved the attention. He started eagerly, "Well, magoi is the energy generated by the Rukh. All living beings have magoi inside their bodies, but only certain people with certain objects can call forth this power. Metal vessels, household vessels, magic tools, magicians, and magi all use magoi to create magic." Telling a story like this brought him back to the time before he founded the Sindria Trading Company when he had to use his creativity to entertain people for money.

A boy raised his hand, "Is that why you're always wearing all that jewelry, Mr. Sinbad?"

The King turned his gaze toward the boy's fading voice. He reminded him of his younger days of being a sailor, long before Sindria was established, "Ah, yes, keen eye." The King responded after taking a second to daydream.

The students listened intently throughout the King and the Priestess's lesson. The class concluded with the difference between magi and magician.

The Priestess stood up, extending her hands to address the class, "Let's give King Sinbad warm applause to thank him for his time and his knowledge."

"Thank you, King Sinbad! Thanks, Mr. Sinbad." The students cheered as they clapped emphatically.

The King stood and bowed gracefully. Sinbad saw the children's enthusiasm, but it was he who felt humbled and thankful for the opportunity to reminisce about simpler times.

"We'll see you all later for supper. Go and wash up." The Priestess encouraged the class.

The students smiled and waved goodbye, chattering amongst each other as they exited the great hall.

The King turned to the Priestess, who was putting the books she used to teach the class back into the top shelves. "Please, let me help you." He walked over and reached for the book, cheekily brushing her hand in the process.

The Priestess retracted her hand back, thankful that her veil can hide her embarrassed smile that she can't seem to dismiss. She resorted to changing the subject, "Say, how are you in the kitchen?"

The King chuckled confidently, "I was a sailor before I was a king."

"Perfect…" The Priestess caught the King's eyes, making him smile. He was at a disadvantage. She could read every emotion painted on his face, not that he was trying to hide his fondness of her. Yet, she remained mysterious, exhilarating, sophisticated.

Their moment was abruptly halted by a student walking back into the study, "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot my book!"

The Priestess cleared her throat as she took a step away from the King. He stood upright but did not tear his gaze away from her as the student was leaving.

"Let's head to the kitchen, then?" The Priestess took this opportunity to get away before Sinbad swept her further into the storm he is brewing inside of her.

The King followed her out of the study hall and into the large palace kitchen. She might have hidden her reactions well, but Sinbad has chased enough women to know when they are interested. He removed his Metal Vessels from his body so that they won't get in the way of cooking. Placing the weapons within arms reach, near the edge of the table, the King proceeded to wash his hands. "What's on the menu tonight, Samara?"

"I was thinking roasted garlic potato soup with baked salmon." The Priestess responded, also rolling her sleeves up to wash her hands. "Does that sound appetizing?"

"Yes, quite so." The King smiled at her.

The Priestess walked from shelf to shelf, periodically setting ingredients and cooking tools down on the table. She handed a hammer and garlic cloves to the King, "You can start by pounding and peeling the garlic. Then, cover them with olive oil in this pan. I'll start peeling the potatoes. We can put them in the oven to roast after that."

"Yes, ma'am." The King responded, delighted to be doing this simple, nostalgic task with her. This brought him back to the time when Rurumu taught him and Ja'Far to cook during their travels as children.

She sat across from him and started to peel and cube the potatoes. "After this, we can start boiling the vegetable stock." She gently tossed the cubed potatoes into the oiled pan.

"Sure thing," He confirmed as he put the pan in the oven, "Hey, I wanted to say thank you."

"For what?" The Priestess smiled back while hanging a large pot over the fire. She started to fill it with a couple of small buckets of water.

The King gently tossed in two whole onions, salt, pepper, and a thumb of ginger into the brewing pot. Wishing he had a facial veil to help hide his embarrassed expression, he turned away from the Priestess's inquisitive gaze. "For your hospitality and generosity… most of all, for allowing me to feel like myself again."

"It is difficult to find balance when you are half-way fallen. Every day, you must win against yourself, so you don't fall further. If you owe anyone gratitude – it's to yourself." _She_ said it in a way that made him believe he was still redeemable, even after falling so far into the darkness.

He chuckled and glanced back at the Priestess, "You astonish me."

Despite the veil, the Priestess's eyes revealed such loneliness the King was all too familiar with whenever he glanced at his reflection before he came to Samaria. Her eyes longed to say something to him, as if wanting to alleviate a burden she'd been carrying for so long, "Sinbad… are you familiar with the history of our holy kingdom?"

"As I understand from the citizens, Samaria and its sister kingdom, Judah, were once a united country. The first ruler decided to divide the country into two kingdoms for his two children to lead – Samaria to the north inherited by his eldest daughter and Judah to the south inherited by his second-born child, his son." The King sat at the table once again. He recalled the tactile skills he learned as a sailor as he carved the sharp knife through the scales of the fish. "However, the son was tragically lost before he could ascend the throne so little by little, the citizens of Judah sought out Samarian leadership when disputes escalated into civil uprisings."

The Priestess stood across from him, stirring the pot, "Alas, history has watered the truth down quite a bit." The Priestess took the roasted potatoes out of the oven using a thick cloth to grab the pan. She walked it directly over the pot and let the vegetables fall in the broth. "The division of the country stemmed from so much betrayal and hurt."

The King listened intently. She set the pan down in front of the King, like every good cook, he knew that the meat would be tastier cooked in a pan seasoned with the aroma of roasted vegetables.

"The Leader of the First Church, David, had a son. He founded this once mighty kingdom some thousand years ago. When our first ruler grew up, he saw the true nature of the church his father preached and fought to demolish its corruption and create something better."

"Let me get this right," Sinbad interjected, "The history books say that Samaria was founded only 20 years ago at most."

The Priestess stopped him with a cryptic answer. "Samaria, maybe so. However, our history extends much farther than your oldest books."

"Oh, yeah?" He smiled obliviously. "Tell me more."

"After a few years, our first ruler succeeded. He had grown to be a symbol of hope for the resistance against the First Church. He made a few friends along the way – People that he considered true family, more than the Church that raised him. By this time, he had a child out of wedlock with one of the servants his father assigned to him at birth, Arba. Even with the given circumstances, he loved Arba. After all, she was his closest friend, and they grew up together, saved their country together, had a daughter together. However, after everything that happened between them, the servant knew that her young master would never truly be happy seeking out the only form of love he ever knew through her." The Priestess narrated as she continued to season the vegetable stock with herbs.

The King recognized the fragrance of rosemary and thyme in the air as he listened attentively, placing the fish skin down on the seasoned pan.

[[ A/N: To clarify and avoid confusion, they had just met Sheba in this timeline; She was not the queen nor was she Solomon's wife yet; she was still a really young girl. At this time, Solomon and his followers had first formed a resistance to defy his father, David, and his Orthodox Church. ]]

"When the princess was a toddler, her father went on an expedition to liberate captured villagers. When he arrived back home to Arba and his daughter, his son was born. The princess was so thrilled, informing her father about the joys of receiving the gift of a new brother. Our first ruler named him Jedidiah."

"It seems like a happy story. What happened to drive the country apart?" Sinbad asked, standing up and grabbing the pan on his way up. He walked over to the warm oven and placed the salmon inside, rekindling the fire underneath after putting in more firewood.

"You see, Jedidiah, was not of royal descent," she explained with her back turned to the King, hiding her shame, "My mother stole him and killed his birth parents – this crime birthed Al-Tharmen."

The King gripped the large metal poker, feeling vulnerable without all of his Metal Vessels. He turned around and slowly walked to the table, "W-What are you… saying, Samara?"

"I am saying…" She turned around to face the King, her eyes welling with tears, "that Al-Tharmen was born in the heart of this nation."

The King's eyes widened, but before he could process his worries and confusion, his instincts proved better. He immediately took a step back from the table after grabbing the nearest Metal Vessel. Sinbad started chanting, a feeling of hurt was beginning to surface, "Spirit of domination and submission, Focalor. Dwell in my body—"

"It won't work, Sinbad." The Priestess walked in front of him, unfazed.

"Foraz Zor—" Sinbad felt his chest ache, both from the White Rukh and Black Rukh flowing in him.

" _Do not harm our Sami, King Sinbad…"_ a voice in his head uttered as he felt Focalor's power be depleted. No, more accurately, he felt Focalor rejecting his call as a King Vessel. Sinbad felt betrayed, not only by his budding love interest but also by his very own Djinn.

The Priestess touched the King's chest with her right fingertips, "Hello, old friend…"

"What nonsense are you spouting, woman? What is this?!" The King was perplexed, "H-How can we be old friends? We've never met until two months ago! How do I know you?"

"You don't, Sinbad." _She_ touched the King's bracelet on his right wrist, "Come forth, Focalor!" She retracted her left hand back. Her right arm extended between both of their bodies, her fingertips grazing the King ever so lightly as she summoned Focalor's blue body out of his metal vessel. "Solomon's Wisdom!"

"Sami…" Focalor's voice echoed in the seemingly small kitchen disproportionate to his blue body. "I am so glad Ugo got you out of Alma Torran…"

"I never thought I'd see you again, Fooka…" The Priestess's gentle eyes were smiling.

"What… in the world… is happening?" The King managed to utter in between his confusion.

The Priestess turned to the King, firmness in her voice, "Are you ready to hear the true history of our people, King Sinbad?"

Meanwhile…

Ja'Far and Masrur decided to follow their hunch while their king was busy with his conquest. Making sure there were no guards or servants to catch them red-handed, they climbed out of their bedroom window. They scaled around the castle's architecture to sneak into the window of the Priestess's chambers and began investigating what the country could be hiding in hopes of unraveling more of her secrets. Masrur checked around the bedroom while Ja'Far checked in the bathroom.

Ja'Far found it strange that the bathroom was quite large, almost as large as the bedroom. However, there was nothing but open space in the middle, not even a tub or a bucket of water. The Priestess's towels and robes were situated next to the walls, but the middle of the room was a blank canvass. He walked to the center of the bathroom, and he noticed the difference in humidity. The longer he stood there, the more he felt like he was sweating. He then noticed that there was a bit of steam coming from cracks in the floor. He knelt and put his palms against the concrete. _It's warm… what is underneath here? What are you hiding?_

"I didn't find anything in the bedroom—." Masrur came into the bathroom and was puzzled as to why Ja'Far looked like a dog sniffing the floor. "What are you doing, Ja'Far?"

"There's something under here! Quick, help me figure out how to open it!" Ja'Far scrambled.

"Put your tail away first," Masrur joked. "No buttons or levers around the room?"

"Tried, no luck." It dawned on Ja'Far as he threw his hands up with his realization, "…because it's not sealed physically; It's sealed through magic!"

Masrur stood back, and Ja'Far put his hands back on the concrete, "Open… Sesame!"

The floor underneath him slid like doors, and he dropped into a shallow, steamy pool underneath. He was completely submerged, but he did not come up for air. _Clairvoyance magic?_ The pool acted as a projector to show a vast blackness even with the room lit up above the water. He felt like he was getting pulled closer to something, or maybe something was being drawn closer to him. It was a ball of light from a distance. As it got closer, he could make out the image of a staff. Just as he was about to reach out to it, Masrur pulled him out of the pool. He started coughing up water.

"What happened? Why did you pull me out?" Ja'Far asked frantically.

"Wh—? You were in there for almost two minutes! You were floating face down in a pool that was waist-deep." Masrur exclaimed, almost worriedly.

"Two minutes?" Ja'Far was perplexed. It did not seem to settle into his mind that he nearly drowned. "It felt like two seconds… the pool has clairvoyance magic."

"What did you see?"

"A staff… with a crescent ornament at the top."


	4. Ghosts from the Past

**DISCLAIMER:** _Magi_ and other discernible characters/quotes/citations belong to their respective authors. I do not own original content, _Magi_. No profits were made.

 **COVER CREDITS:** MAGI THE LABYRINTH OF MAGIC BY SHINOBU OHTAKA (c). Cover Credits: Original Fan Character by Aladdin.

Cited: magi. Fandom wiki

 **A/N:** **I hope you guys enjoyed the revisions in the first 3 chapters, and I hope I explained my plot twists a lot better. Drop any questions in the Reviews or in my PMs. Thank you for supporting!**

 **#StaySafe #Quarantine2020**

-0-0-0-

 **Magi**

 **Chapter IV: Ghosts from the Past**

The brisk Samarian spring winds blew in through the kitchen windows, adding malevolence to the Priestess's prophetic revelations.

"How are you able to use Solomon's Wisdom?" The King was distraught, still holding the metal poker, as he demanded answers, "…and, how are you able to summon my Djinn out of his Metal Vessel?"

"The same way Aladdin can use it." The Priestess explained, trying only to give away facts. "Solomon's blood runs through my veins. He is my father."

"You are King Solomon's daughter?" The King inquired incredulously. He shook his head at her divulgence. "Aladdin is King Solomon's son? You're siblings?"

"Yes," The Priestess turned to the Djinn. "As far as summoning Focalor…"

"Solomon's Wisdom grants the user divine omniscience." Focalor added, almost sarcastically, "She is quite literally, the knower of all, Sinbad."

"Like Aladdin, I am also a Magi…" The Priestess clarified using a soft, calm voice, as she held her hands up to try to assuage the King's confusion, "…and I can use Solomon's Wisdom. So, I can summon the original 72 Djinns, even if they are not mine, but I cannot will them to do as I please. Just as how Aladdin can summon Ugo even though he was our father's Djinn, but Ugo mostly acted of his own accord."

The Priestess's proclamations made sense to the King. It is why Aladdin did not seem in control of his Metal Vessel – because he wasn't. Ugo stayed and protected Aladdin out of his own volition.

"Also, I just recognized her rukh. I'm not going to harm our beloved King Solomon's first-born, even if you wish it, King Sinbad." Focalor added nonchalantly, bringing the King's attention back to reality.

"Allow me to show you from the beginning…" The Priestess sat on the bench next to them, extending both of her hands to the King.

The King still aiming the metal poker in his right hand toward the Priestess. He allowed his mind to catch up with her secrets. His fingers shook hesitantly, still being wary of the Priestess. Every bone in his body was telling him to fight or run away from this bizarre woman. However, he couldn't brush her off. Not after Focalor, his own Djinn vouched for her.

"Solomon's Wisdom!" The rukh flowed out of her body in the form of thousands of yellow butterflies. She was still holding her hands out, waiting to show the King snippets of flashbacks of her old life.

He finally calmed enough to put down the poker and cautiously take her hands. They closed their eyes. It was like they were reliving the Priestess's memories.

"This all started in a whole other world, called Alma Torran. Our story began when my grandfather, David, was blessed by Il Ilah, the Black God – creator and destroyer of Alma Torran. After David's miracle, he became the leader of the magicians and the first Senator in the Orthodox Church's Council of Elders, during which time he had a son – my father, Solomon. At first, Solomon was loyal to David and would often volunteer himself to subjugate other species. Still, as my father grew older, he became more curious about other species' way of life and their different cultures. When my father was 12 years old, he was tasked with claiming the depths of the Continental Rift. There, he met the Mother Dragon, the only remaining Dragon of Origin, a race that is said to live for 8000 years. She taught my father many things that made him begin to question the emotionally-biased exclusion doctrine toward other species that my grandfather has imprinted on him. After that, Solomon came to see Mother Dragon more and more, and little by little, his mindset changed. In that same year, my father left my grandfather's following and formed a resistance against Alma Torran's Orthodox government. Together with Solomon's closest friend – Arba and four other divine staff avatars – Wahid, Falan, Setta, and Ithnan, they started searching for the rest of the 72 divine staves – what you know now as Metal Vessels." The Priestess let go of the King's hand and wobbled, almost falling to the ground, not before the King caught her and helped her regain stability. Even with his strong doubts about her, he couldn't help but let his chivalry shine through.

"Are you alright, Samara?" The King inquired, worriedly. He was confused about his own feelings. Moreover, he was conflicted about how he should feel about Samara's true heritage. He had significant doubts about her, but he could not help caring for the Priestess, which confused him even more.

"Yes, I'm fine…" Her skin flushed, feeling a bit embarrassed as she clung onto his forearm. "It has just been a while since I used this power to such an extent…"

"How long is a while?"

"Almost a thousand years…"

"Please, take it easy, Sami." Focalor pleaded with concern. "You can't show a thousand years' worth of history to another person without straining yourself."

"I think it's best if I continue this story without using Solomon's Wisdom for a bit…" Samara sat upright. The King stood, pouring some water into a cup and handed it to the Priestess as he tried to process the load of information she just gave him.

"Thank you, Sinbad." Samara felt self-conscious when calling out his name. He made her uneasy when he looked at her with perplexity. It was unsettling when their fingers brushed against each other when she reached for her cup. _What did he think of her now?_

"You're welcome." He responded, without any idea of how much his gaze and his touch burned right through her.

The Priestess fiddled with her cup, trying to stay objective. "When my father was 16, he professed his ' _love'_ to his best friend, Arba, saying that he wanted her to see him as an equal instead of a young master."

"Ah, I remember this story quite well," Focalor chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Arba was so pissed at your father; I remember Ugo saying that she scolded him, ' _Don't go professing your love to people when you don't even know what it means!_ ' Ah, she was always quite crude."

"Crude is such an understatement, Fooka…" The Priestess's eyes drooped with regret and nostalgia all at once. "Falan said that Arba's lesson to Solomon was that: _He was afraid of love… because your first love is not the first person you decide to give your heart to – but the first person that breaks it_. The truth is, my father just wanted my mother to see him as an equal and not as a young master. He wanted her to level with him if he ever became conceited and develop a god complex like my grandfather."

Focalor laughed longingly at the memory, "Even then, a year later, along came you, Solomon and Arba's firstborn – Princess Samara."

"A few months after I was born, my father took in a twelve-year-old Sheba – who would later become one of his Three Wise Magi, and his wife." The Priestess added, her eyebrows moving in such a pitiful way.

"Wasn't this also around the time Tess was born?" Focalor thought back, with his hand on his chin.

"Yes…" A tear fell as the Priestess's voice broke.

"Who is Tess?" The King inquired.

"Tess was Wahid and Falan's only son. He was like a younger brother to Sami," Focalor replied.

"Sheba was welcomed by my mother, Arba. They used to be very close until Sheba developed jealous feelings toward my father and mother's close relationship. I think she envied the way they are like a father and mother to everyone, thus, creating our extended family. I think at the time, Sheba aspired to become like my mother one day." The Priestess continued to narrate. "When Sheba aged a bit more, my mother made her promise to become Solomon's wife, to be by his side even if it kills her. Little did anyone know, it was all Arba's ploy to gain Sheba's confidence again – to lower everyone's guard. Arba said that Sheba is the only one who can love my father and that they could support my father together, serving as his yin and yang."

"Not long after that, your brother, Jedidiah, was adopted – Solomon and Arba's second child," Focalor added.

"It was later revealed that my mother, Arba, stole Jedidiah from villagers that Solomon saved from one of David's magical towers called Gunuds. Killing Jedidiah's parents – it was the first act that initiated Arba's fall into depravity. No one knew it then, but this crime birthed Al-Tharmen." The Priestess paused to wipe her tears. She sniffled before continuing, "She brought Jedidiah into our family to ensure that she still had leverage over my father, that Sheba's feelings for my father would not outweigh hers. All that time, she was manipulating us all." She stared off into space as if drowning in shame, her eyes once again welling with tears of pitying rue. "We were so happy… and my own mother, she—she destroyed it all, like none of it mattered."

The King held the Priestess's hand to comfort her, gaining back a bit of confidence in her after hearing her story and understanding that she, too, was a victim of others' despair. They were more alike than he initially thought. He sympathized with her pain, feeling like they could understand each other.

"My father had his suspicions about the rapid turn of events and the fact that it was way too easy, way too simple – _Where did this young boy come from exactly? What happened to his birth parents?_ – That's also why he was skeptical when Sheba first started seeking him out romantically when she was 17. Arba explained to him that she decided to adopt Jedidiah, and he was in no way obligated to father this child. Of course, my noble father refused my mother's resolve. After all, they already had me, and Wahid and Falan had Tess wandering about, it was easy to expand our family." Again, the Priestess's eyes filled with nostalgia.

The pot of potato soup started to boil over, breaking the tension in the air.

"Ah, I guess it is time for dinner…" The Priestess snapped back to the present time and stretched out a forced smile that squinted her eyes. "Sinbad, would you be so kind as to ring the dinner bell hanging beside the stove?"

"You will have to hear out the rest later, King Sinbad." Focalor went back into his metal vessel.

The students came running in and hugged the Priestess, "Thank you for the food, Priestess! We'll help set the table in the great hall." They started pulling plates and utensils out of the storeroom and got their favorite beverages from the buttery. Four students wheeled in trays with large serving bowls next to the big pot, and the Priestess scooped the soup into the containers. "Please ask King Sinbad to help you with the big bowls because they're heavy and boiling; I don't want anyone to have an accident."

The King smiled, remembering the person he got to know during the past couple of months. "It is wonderfully inspiring how children are taught independence, gratitude, and cooperation at such a young age in this nation." For a moment, he let himself imagine a world where he and she could exist just like this, guiding the future through the children of the present, playing the roles of a mother and father. He shook his head to snap himself out of his silly daydreams. Feeling foolish, he smirked as he looked down and followed the students into the dining hall, remembering the Priestess's revelation about the origins of Al-Tharmen. His calculating side came out, and he started thinking, _what exactly did she mean? Is she part of Al-Tharmen?_ It seemed that his trust was betrayed by this strange woman who can summon his Djinn and have their loyalties turned so quickly.

The children presented the courses beautifully. The King and Priestess sat at the round table at the end of the hall. Along with them were Ja'Far and Masrur from the King's court, and Luna, the commander of the Samarian palace guards.

"Delicious meal, thank you, Priestess Samara." Ja'Far hid his suspicions well behind his compliments.

"You're quite welcome, but the King helped me out a great deal in the kitchen." The Priestess humbly responded.

The King was caught daydreaming again: _B_ _esides, she is a magi able to use Solomon's Wisdom. Why is she limiting herself to such a small and developing country? Why did she become so weak after using her powers? Also, why hasn't she chosen a King's Candidate yet? Does Aladdin even know about her?_

"You mean, _our_ King Sinbad?" Ja'Far and Masrur both looked at him in disbelief.

The King turned his gaze to his Generals. They all laughed around the table, each of them hiding their own secrets and doubts across the table.


	5. Foundations of an Equal Nation

**DISCLAIMER:** _Magi_ and other discernible characters/quotes/citations belong to their respective authors. I do not own original content, _Magi_. No profits were made.

 **COVER CREDITS:** MAGI THE LABYRINTH OF MAGIC BY SHINOBU OHTAKA (c). Cover Credits: Original Fan Character by Aladdin.

Cited: magi. Fandom wiki

 **A/N: *** ********WARNING******** THIS CHAPTER (ch.5, ch.6) CONTAINS A LOOOOOOOT OF MANGA ***SPOILERS*****

 **#StaySafe #Quarantine2020**

-0-0-0-

 **Magi**

 **Chapter V: Foundations of an Equal Nation**

Some students walked up and started cleaning up after their meal. "May I remove your plates from the table?"

"Why, of course. Thank you." The King responded just as politely.

"Incredible manners." Ja'Far looked at his King, begrudgingly. "Certainly nothing like Sin and I, growing up…"

"I miss Rurumu, too, Ja'Far…" The King acknowledged his General's sadness at the loss of his only maternal figure.

Ja'Far smiled at him gently as if telling him it was alright. Standing up, he bid them good night, "Thank you again, both of you, for such a lovely meal." He and Masrur bowed and retreated to their chambers.

The King stood as well and extended his hand to the Priestess. "Please, walk with me and continue your story."

She looked at him then down at his hand, bashfully, before taking it this time. "Where were we?"

"I believe you were telling me about your brother, Jedidiah, and how he came to be a part of your family?" The King responded as they started walking to explore the castle, without their guards this time.

"Ah, yes." The Priestess held her wrist behind her back. "Arba had brought home an adoptive baby after telling Sheba to become Solomon's wife… Little did we know that my mother had stolen Jedidiah from a settlement on the outskirts of our basecamp. She could not control my father anymore due to the blossoming romance between him and Sheba, so she needed heavier leverage over him. Naturally, Sheba was very confused, but Arba reassured her that it was all going to be alright, and she should continue to pursue Solomon. A few months after that, Solomon and Sheba got along well – romantically. Another few months passed, Sheba announced that she was pregnant. My father wanted to remove her from the battle plans for the war against my grandfather. She refused and proposed a solution to slow her pregnancy so that her child may be born during happier times after the war against David. Everyone agreed since she was the third strongest magician in Alma Torran at the time."

They sat in the gallery of the castle, surrounded by many beautiful paintings by local artists and even the students.

The Priestess continued, "Many years passed, and Solomon collected 60 of the Divine Staves, leading up to the final battle against David. By that time, I was eight years old, and my brothers Jedidiah and Tess were around six years old. Ugo's research has led him to our first knowledge about the Rukh that I teach the students today. The different species my father saved from David's towers demanded that he become king. My mother, Arba, advised Solomon that equality would not be possible without a king. So he heeded everyone's request – despite his dreams of standing equally with all species in a nation that refuses kings."

"Ah, now I understand why you run this country the way you do…" The King gazed into the Priestess's eyes, satisfied with understanding more of her philosophies, "it is a refinement of your father's ideals."

"It took me a decade, but I tracked down the last living descendants of the avatars of the Divine Staves… the will of their ancestors' Rukh guide them to this day. Of course, I help remind them using a bit of Solomon's Wisdom from time to time – allowing them to speak and say goodbye to their loved ones, even for a fleeting moment."

"You continue to surprise me every second that I get to know you." The King gazed into her eyes as if he was staring into her bare soul. He was swimming in the depth of her history, holding her present, and desperately seeking to be a part of her future.

"Thank you, Sinbad. In the decade that I lived in this world, I have never met anyone who could truly see, know, and accept me for who I am."

He caressed her face with the palms of his warm hands over her veil. He leaned in, touching the Priestess's forehead to his own.

She held his hand back, "We shouldn't…"

"Is it wrong to feel this way about you?" The King inquired, pulling back, feeling a bit rejected.

"My life is severely complicated." She responded. "I just… I don't want to make the same mistakes my family made."

The King took his hands away and stepped away from her entirely, trying to shake off the thought that the Priestess is worried that he would be just like Arba since he is half-fallen, "Is that the truth, or do you have the same fears as your father? You're afraid to give your heart to someone because you're afraid to have someone break it."

"I am more afraid of hurting you, Sin." She looked down, restraining herself, "we don't exactly have many successes at love in this family…"

He was astonished by her, yet again because he was worrying for nothing. She wasn't afraid of him because he is half-fallen – she was only considerate of his feelings. Being half-fallen was a matter of no consequence to her. Had she known? All this time… had she known he was half fallen from the moment they met? _Divine omniscience, how far does that power go exactly?_ "Did you know?"

Her eyes darted toward him. "Know what?"

"Did you know, using Solomon's Wisdom, did you know we would meet like this?" He asked. Honestly, fearing the answer.

She pursed her lips. Honestly, fearing to tell the truth. "I… have seen you… in my visions. However, the future is always changing, Sinbad. Especially in cases of people like you – a singularity. Your every decision makes ripples in destiny that you could never anticipate." She looked away, "Never would I have dreamed of feeling this way about you."

Giving it a moment of serious thought, he reflected on the past two months they had spent together – reminiscing on that brief, fleeting moment they spent on the dock when she felt his heartbeat through his chest, she must have known at least then. She must have sensed it emanating from the deepest part of his soul where he had buried all of his darkness, like a child, hiding his soiled sheets, desperately trying to conceal the smeared parts of himself where no one could ever find it. _Divine omniscience… and yet, you treated me all the same – different from everyone else, but all the same nonetheless._ This realization made him chuckle, and admittedly, fall for her even more. All this time, he had countless doubts, but she was the one holding back all along. Not because she was scared of him – quite the opposite actually – she held her feelings back because _she_ was afraid to hurt _him_. How could someone worry about something as silly as that? Worry about him getting hurt, even after he's done so many despicable things in his lifetime?

What's even more surprising to him is that after experiencing many betrayals in his past, he still found it so easy to trust her. Maybe it was because of her origin? Her willingness to divulge her secrets? Focalor corroborating her story? What was it that compelled the High King of the Seven Seas to trust a stranger? He knew she was honest with him. He had dealt with many talented liars in the politics of his career and was quite the expert on spotting dishonesty quickly.

Perhaps it was because she felt like home to him. Unlike Sindria, a home that he created in his image with his ideals and his politics. She was more like that small town in the Parthevia empire. The home he had not thought of in years, much to his shame – Tison Village. She brought him back to much simpler times when he was nothing more than the son of a fisherman. She reminded him of how untarnished happiness looked and felt. Being with her was as natural as breathing, but at the same time took his breath away. For him, it was a humbling experience.

"You asked me before if I have ever known true peace? The answer is no; neither of us has. All we've ever known is chaos. You grew up in the middle of David and Solomon's war, and I have become someone I don't recognize to help make this world a perfect place to live in, but is that all there is – chaos?" He turned to face her in her seat, "What about after the chaos has settled?"

"Sinbad…" She looked up at him in disbelief, "I have long given up on the fantasies that there will be a life for me after this war. To be completely honest, I don't believe I will live to see my father's ideals realized in this lifetime…"

Her statement thoroughly surprised the King after seeing what great success they had in Samaria, "Why do you doubt that? Don't you have true, immeasurable peace and happiness in your kingdom?"

The Priestess extended her hands to the King once more. He took them, his heart skipping a beat as she uttered, "Solomon's Wisdom!"

The King was able to see the past through the Priestess's Rukh overflowing, "You see, Sin, after my father collected the 60 Divine Staves, he went to war with my grandfather. Solomon, Sheba, Arba, Wahid, Falan, and Ithnan led the species into the heart of the Cathedral in a mission to end David's Orthodox reign once and for all. The troops stormed the capital while Setta stayed at the home base, with the families that the troops left, including Tess, Jedidiah, and myself." The Priestess took a deep breath, as if to brace herself for this memory, "My mother stabbed what appeared to be David and supposedly vanquished him in a single strike. Of course, my father became suspicious of the ease of their victory – and he was right. While my family and the troops marched toward the Cathedral, David and his Orthodox followers marched toward us at the home base. Setta patrolled the rear of the base while my brother and I waited patiently at the center of our camp, where we said a prayer with some of the other species' families, to ask God to protect our loved ones going into battle. Setta found Tess crying, worried sick about his parents, that was when David and the Elder Council attacked the Base of Magicians. Only Setta was able to withstand multiple attacks from the Elders. The entirety of our base was massacred because there were no warriors left behind to protect us…"

"How did you survive?" The King asked, gripping her hands tighter.

The Priestess winced at his question, "My brothers Tess, Jedidiah and I… we were spared by David… He performed clairvoyance magic to project our home base to the Cathedral capital, where our family could see…" She tightened her grip onto Sinbad's hands, and her Rukh started overflowing out of her body, forming bright yellow-golden flashback images. The King couldn't tell if it was all in his mind or if the Priestess was simply this powerful.

In the Priestess's memories, Sinbad saw Tess calling out for help to his mother as he clung onto young Samara, " _Mama! Mama! Please come and save us! I'm so scared..._ "

"My family was trapped in the Cathedral by a borg that was created by immense amounts of magoi as old as the city itself. By the time they broke free of the barrier, flew to the base using the Divine Staves, everything and everyone were scorched..." Tears started streaming from the Priestess's closed eyes, "My family arrived to see us cowering in fear and horror in front of David, my brothers clinging to me... The last words my grandfather said to us were–"

She paused, and the King closed his eyes as well, and it was as if he heard David's stern and ominous voice from her memories, "Stay healthy and get strong, my dear grandchildren – Be the strongest magicians the New World will ever know. I have great plans for you three–"

Poor Tess saw his parents arrive and called out to his mother and attempted to run toward them. As soon as Tess was upright, David spoke after being interrupted and waved his staff gently, "Insolent child."

The King felt like he was reliving this nightmare from the Priestess's perspective, and he could feel the horror and helplessness she felt when Tess's hand turned ashy and charred in hers. He recognized someone quite familiar. Sinbad didn't recognize her face, but he recognized her eyes and her Rukh. He couldn't quite place a name with that face. Understandably so because Sinbad only knew Falan when she had completely fallen and, in this memory, he witnessed how a loving mother was triggered to fall into depravity. Every little bit of information he learns from the Priestess makes him understand the things he distrusted before.

"Falan rushed over to hold her son, who could only mutter out his fear and to plead for help weakly. Solomon fought David, who reasoned that it was everyone's destinies to be sacrificed that day, on the anniversary of Il Ilah's descent, on the day that he was blessed. In an effort to become one with God himself, David and the Elders self-destructed, and David entrusted his staff to Solomon, this begun the next chapter of his prophecy."

"Prophecy?" The King clarified as he opened his eyes.

The Priestess let go of his hands, "Everyone was mourning what seemed to be the meaningless deaths of our lost loved ones, but my father set out to find out what David meant by the staff being the key to fight against destiny... He took my mother, Arba, Ugo, and Sheba by accident – they found that the staff is the key that unlocks the place that stored David's magoi. In that dimension, they found Il Ilah, whom my mother considers 'Our Father,' the creator of Alma Torran. They figured out that David was able to siphon magic directly out of God's body, which reached out tentacle-like projections to open my family's third eyes. At that moment, they understood the truth about 'God's agenda' – they understood the absolute flow of destiny."

"Absolute...?"

"They came to understand that no matter our intentions, no matter how big the ripples we make, everything that we experience, the choices we make, they are all simply phenomena created to propel the world forward toward a single destination. They understood that there was no such thing as free will – we were merely finite beings that can never escape the rukh's flow, known as destiny."

The King stuttered in disbelief, "What do you mean by a single destination?"

"Just as we are born, the universe births worlds as well – and just as we die, worlds perish as well – this is the flow of Il Ilah's Black Rukh, creation and destruction. Everything must be destroyed repeatedly so that his magoi may be replenished using a burst of energy that creates a new world."

The King clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, feeling hopeless, "Impossible… If that were true, then everything I sacrificed, everyone I've lost, all the bodies I buried – they were all for nothing?"

The Priestess looked down in shame, then caught the King's gaze. "Do you trust me?"

She caught the King off guard with this sudden change of the subject. Shaken by her divulgence, Sinbad could not think of an answer right away. _Trust?_ "I—I don't know… This—it's a lot to take in." The King took her hand and held it tight as if holding on to the last sliver of certainty while his world and all of its truths crumbled around him.

She was taken aback by the sudden force around her hand. She looked down at where they intertwined and looked back up in his eyes, searching for a place to ground herself down.

The King continued, "This is what I do know – I love you."

The Priestess caught herself reminiscing back on their brief journey of discovering each other over the past two months. She smiled reluctantly, "You know, they say that it is much better to be trusted than to be loved? You may not always trust the person you love, but it is so much easier to love a person you trust. There is nothing good that will come out of loving someone you cannot trust, Sinbad."

"Even so…" The King gazed into this strange woman's eyes, trying to find her so that he may pull her out of her misery. "Falling in love is like falling into depravity – inexorable, inescapable, and irrevocable. Even after everything you've told me, I cannot unlove you…"

"You will have to…"

"It's that simple, huh?"

The Priestess took her hand away as she changed the subject. She cannot allow herself to be swept into his storm. She cleared her throat to resume again, "Everyone thought that David led them to that dimension only to realize how powerless we are, but my father saw a different agenda." The Priestess saddened once more, "My grandfather's trap worked well... He led them there so my father can kill God and stray from his destined path. My mother was outraged and protested that they would be doing the same thing as David, but my father had different plans – he wanted to share God with all life forms, he said that every one of us must become the masters of our world. My father's vision of a nation that rejects all kings was quite literal. He wanted to reject God's ruling over everyone's destiny. My father, Solomon, changed the will of the Black Rukh in Ill Illah to reflect his dreams of a world where everyone stands equally. Sheba argued that Solomon placed his will in the Rukh because his will is to make all sentient beings happy. Arba argued that we never really escaped the prison of destiny at all – only this time, it wasn't God's destiny, but King Solomon's destiny."

"This is the betrayal that tore your family apart..." The King's heart ached for Samara, understanding her more and more. He wanted to pour his love into her heart to mend the cracks of her soul.

"You're not wrong, but this is only one of many betrayals that tore my family apart," the Priestess continued. "Everyone changed after Solomon fused with Il Ilah – my father most of all. When he returned, he looked down on Sheba, Jedidiah, and I with empty eyes. We could tell his soul was lost. Our families and allies argued without my father's guidance and ultimately felt afraid, hopeless, and powerless without being able to use any magoi. The other magicians felt it was unfair that only Solomon, Sheba, Ugo, and Arba became the only three Magi that can use both the magoi within them and the magoi around them. Sheba continued to argue that everyone in the resistance wanted equality, but when we achieved it, they could not tolerate being no stronger than the next person."

The King tried to put himself into everyone's shoes. The people of Alma Torran were all correct to some extent, making it hard to pick sides.

"To resolve this, Queen Sheba created 72 sacred metal treasures that housed the Divine Staves with Ugo, and they distributed one to every chief of every species, thus, dividing the power equally." She smiled with regret in her eyes, "In the end, Arba was able to turn everyone against the will of Solomon's White Rukh, and Arba was able to discover a way to repaint the White Rukh black. This time, using their own wills as magicians, inventing the phenomenon of falling into depravity, creating the Al-Tharmen organization."

The King's heart weighed heavy, but it was nothing compared to what Samara was feeling.

"The day of the Magicians' Revolt came, but my father was still too weak from his ascension to godhood. With Solomon's gift of equal rukh, the Magicians of Al-Tharmen were also now able to wield the new Black Rukh to carry out their own wills, straying from the Rukh's Great White Flow. Ithnan was so broken by the loss of his brother, Setta; Falan and Wahid were so blinded by their rage at having lost their only child, Tess; my mother worst of all – she was so blinded by the idea of bringing back the will of Il Ilah. Arba did not hesitate to kill Sheba and cry in pity of her for having lost her way of following Il Ilah, accusing Solomon of being a great sinner for manipulating everyone to believe in his new deity. She pleaded with the crowd that the new organization, Al-Tharmen, will create a pure world, free of the prison of the destiny of their new false god, and my mother gained their confidence. Ugo arrived too late to save Sheba, but the baby in her womb survived – that baby is Aladdin. She entrusted his fetus form to Ugo."

"I... am so sorry, Samara..." These were the only words the King was able to utter.

"Sorry? Sorry for what exactly? Sorry for my father's hubristic decision? Sorry for my mother's blind faith? Sorry for not being able to protect Tess against my grandfather? Sorry that Sheba was not able to hug Aladdin even once in his lifetime? I have run out of the capability to feel sorry for myself a long time ago." Samara blamed herself for all the awful things that happened not only to her family, but she felt responsible for the collapse of an entire world.

The King fell silent, realizing the depth of pain that the Priestess carries.

"Jedidiah and I spent what we thought was our last moments with our father. Ultimately, he recovered enough to rejoin the new war that ignited against Al-Tharmen. First, he led my brother and I underground to join other refugees who were unable to fight. He told us to wait for Ugo." She smiled nostalgically, "He told us he was so proud of us and that he loved us very much. He told us that we must take care of our brother, Aladdin, but he didn't get a chance to say goodbye. I just remember holding my brother's hand as we watched our father walk away for the last time. Then, he apologized for his regretful decision and asked the chiefs to lend him their power. They all agreed to protect the world together – that is when the 72 chiefs holding the sacred metal treasures became the 'Djinns' you know today. Together, they destroyed several avatars and their Black Djinn, but that did not prevent Il Ilah's descent into Alma Torran. In the end, the final battle was between my mother, who believed in her God, Il Illah's voice, and my father, who did not believe in entrusting everything to God's will, coating that belief with our fickle desires. My father died sealing Il Ilah and Al-Tharmen into a different dimension before they could destroy Alma Torran." Tears started streaming uncontrollably from the Priestess's eyes.

The King simply hugged Samara, her Rukh emanating relief. "You're not alone anymore; You've met me now... I am here for you."

The Priestess hugged him back and sobbed, a heavy burden lifted from her chest after keeping it bottled inside for so long. Only now has she realized she was truly alone – without her parents: Solomon and Arba; without her family: Sheba, Falan, Wahid, Ithnan, Setta; without her brothers: Tess, Jedidiah, and Aladdin, but she had a confidant in the King, and somehow, that helped fill the giant void inside her heart.


	6. The Fall of Alma Torran

**DISCLAIMER:** _Magi_ and other discernible characters/quotes/citations belong to their respective authors. I do not own original content, _Magi_. No profits were made.

 **COVER CREDITS:** MAGI THE LABYRINTH OF MAGIC BY SHINOBU OHTAKA (c). Cover Credits: Original Fan Character by Aladdin.

Cited: magi. Fandom wiki

 **A/N: This is my most heavily edited chapter. If you don't read the fluff edits from Chapter 1-5, pleaaaaaase read Chapter 6 EDITS. I touch more on Jedidiah's powers - This is new info that bridges a few gaps in the later chapters.**

 **#StaySafe #Quarantine2020**

-0-0-0-

 **Magi**

 **Chapter VI: The Fall of Alma Torran**

"This is how Ugo must have felt..." The Priestess wiped away her tears, "When my father vanquished Il Ilah and Al-Tharmen to a sealed dimension, all plant and animal life died out at the same time, destroying the entire ecosystem. The land would not have been viable to grow crops for another thousand years. Everyone was lost, and in despair, Ugo realized that he was all alone, too, finding a way to keep everyone alive in the ruins of Alma Torran while maintaining the peace. All he had as mementos of his friends and family were us three kids, left by the Great King Solomon. He realized he could encourage everyone by first showing them that even if Solomon died, he left his will and teachings with his children. He assured them that as a Magi, Ugo could see the Rukh of the King's children and how we succeeded the radiance of Solomon's Rukh and that we would be great leaders someday."

"That certainly isn't the case now, though. What happened?"

"We depleted all resources that were left untouched by Il Illah in Alma Torran. In those five years, Ugo devised a plan to create a new world where the citizens of Alma Torran could travel with the Rukh through the dimensional tunnels by borrowing the power of the Sacred Palace – where Solomon's will that rules the Rukh dwells. Do you know where the system of choosing King's candidates come from?"

"No, I don't." The King responded, realizing his ignorance, despite being a King Vessel.

"Before leaving Alma Torran for the world we live in now, Ugo met with the 72 Djinns of the Underground City. They agreed that even when Aladdin becomes king, he will eventually die. So, they created a system to ensure that the leaders of the new world are just – the Three Wise Magi system. Entrusted to find a suitable King Vessel – they were the ones loved by the Rukh possessing Solomon's will, which loved all species equally. Then they created the Metal Vessels to house the miraculous powers sleeping in the Underground Cities. The King's Candidates, chosen by the Three Wise Magi, will come back to Alma Torran so that their skills and qualities may be tested once more by the immortal Djinns who will never forget the tragedy of Alma Torran. The Chiefs of the Underground Cities stayed behind to ensure that their descendants will have proper kings. As for Ugo, he became a Djinn as well, the Guardian of the Sacred Palace, continuing to send out the souls of Magi into the new world. With that, Ugo changed the form of all sentient species into one – humans. Only the former original humans, magicians, and certain groups were able to keep their memories and documents of Alma Torran after being moved into the New World. This is due to their original resistance toward magic – they are now called the 'Torran Tribe.' They still speak the language spoken in Alma Torran. Most of the members of the Torran Tribe are now citizens in the Holy Kingdom of Samaria."

"That seems like a happy ending. So why did the first Dungeon appear?" The King was perplexed. As the words left his lips, he felt shivers go down his spine. Anticipating an answer he would not like, he continued to listen, reeling in his expectations.

"A thousand years later, my brother, Jedidiah's human body, eventually reached its limit. Ugo delayed our aging process. He was able to keep Aladdin in fetus form and extend my next year into a thousand. Since Jedidiah was not born from Solomon or even Arba's blood, eventually, his body deteriorated. The magic contained in his death and reincarnation into this world awakened and resurrected Al-Tharmen. They are still sealed in another space, but they have become beings formed only by their consciousness – they channel their Rukh into those dolls to 'bring them back to life.'"

The King's eyebrows furrowed. He was still confused, "How did Jedidiah's death resurrect Al-Tharmen?"

"We were the first three Magi that Ugo created in the New World – Aladdin, Jedidiah, and me. However, in the first thousand years, we lived in the Sacred Palace with Ugo after he became its Guardian. He made new Magis that will choose King's Candidates and kept sending them out into the New World since we weren't ready yet."

"New Magis like Yuunan, Scheherezade & Judar?" The King clarified to ensure he was following The Priestess's story.

"Yes, that's right." She responded. "During our time in the Sacred Palace, Ugo trained us on how to be a Magi. As he honed my powers along with Jedidiah's, he found that my brother's abilities were based on his emotions, making him extremely volatile. It's not surprising since he was not born into magic. He learned and absorbed magic through our father's love and guidance. In turn, this made it hard for him to control his abilities."

The King chuckled ironically, "I can relate to that dilemma."

"When Jedidiah died, his soul was not returned to the Great White Flow. Instead, his soul was sent into the New World by Ugo as he reincarnated him to a different set of parents. Unfortunately, when his soul entered the New World, it caused a rip in the fabric of space and time. This anomaly allowed Al-Tharmen's Rukh to seep into our world slowly. The three Magi during that time detected his strong Rukh and alerted the descendants of Al-Tharmen. They were able to steal this child that was implanted with my brother's soul – which meant this child possessed the soul of a Magi. When that plan failed, Ugo sent me to live with the Torran Tribe and instructed me to limit using my powers so that I wouldn't be detected by the current Magis. I was thirteen at the time, and Jedidiah's reincarnated self had just turned 11 – that was a decade ago. Shortly after Ugo released me from the Sacred Palace, he turned Aladdin's fetus form into his child form and taught him everything he knows now."

"Samara, this child that possesses the soul of an original Magi, who was stolen by Al-Tharmen... Could it be...?" The King gnashed his teeth in preparation for her truth. He knew it already; he just did not want to believe it. His foreboding suspicions caused sweat beads to form above his eyebrows.

"You're correct. My brother, Jedidiah's soul, lives on in Judar."

The Priestess's most shocking revelation caused the King to inhale sharply to try and calm himself down. He could not quite place his emotions. Mostly, Sinbad felt annoyed. He did not fully understand why that took up the abundance of his feelings. He felt anger growing at this immovable mountain that suddenly stood in between him and the woman he's falling for.

Samara continued, reeling the King back into their conversation, "Though I doubt he'll remember our life together. How could he? No one was there to teach him and love him as he was growing up in this world. He only had the stringent Al-Tharmen members raising him." The Priestess confirmed. Again, trying only to give the baffled King facts. "To rebuild a better world than Alma Torran, Aladdin is our last pillar of support. He will lead the New World to the path of happiness! According to Ugo's plan, I must get our brother back from Al-Tharmen's hold – but I have no idea where to start..."

Revealing this goal, understanding her motives, the King found himself smirking, a plan forming in his mind. "Say, you have never met your brothers after they were born into this New World, right?" He enthusiastically inquired.

"No, I have never had the pleasure to meet them. Though, I fail to see why that would excite you?" The Priestess replied, offense clear in her tone.

"I happen to know your brothers well. Let's just say we have quite the history. Come with me to Sindria! I will introduce you to them." The King pointed his thumb toward himself. Offending the Priestess was not his intention at all. His excitement stemmed from the possibility of seeing Samara smile genuinely because of his help. Not only that, he also found a way to stay in her life just a little longer.

"Do you... really mean that?" For the first time in a long time, the Priestess cried tears of joy, and she felt a warm, fluttering feeling in her heart that she thought she had forgotten, "I can see my brothers again!"

"Yes, no family should ever be torn apart for a thousand years." The King wiped her tears. As strange as he found it, he felt pride in being able to give her the gift of family. Even though it was a small task for him, it meant the entire world for her.

History was unfolding, and the future was falling into place faster than Samara had hoped. The Priestess felt inclined to tell the King the last vital piece of information. "Sinbad, you asked me earlier if I knew we would meet. Not only have I seen you in my visions when using Solomon's Wisdom to try to predict the future. Ugo spoke of a singularity, not unlike my grandfather, that I might meet in this lifetime. He said, if I do meet him, steer him away from David's whispers."

The King dreaded his next words, "I'm a singularity..."

"Correct." The Priestess continued as she walked the King to the palace's sacred prayer room, "You see, when my father was born, David wrote a prophecy – that singularities are a natural phenomenon in the world. He claimed to understand the purpose of such phenomena – there is a mission, and my grandfather exists to fulfill it to its end."

They stood in front of an old book sitting on a stone – David's Book of Prophecy. She looked him in the eye. Her next words changing his destiny as he knew it, "I believe my grandfather is going to attempt to take over your body to manifest himself into our New World."


	7. What's Left After a Kingdom Falls

**DISCLAIMER:** _Magi_ and other discernible characters/quotes/citations belong to their respective authors. I do not own original content _Magi_. No profits were made.

 **COVER CREDITS:** MAGI THE LABYRINTH OF MAGIC BY SHINOBU OHTAKA (c). Cover Credits: Original Fan Character by Aladdina.

Cited: magi. Fandom wiki

 **A/N: Be sure to recap at least from Chapter 6! Heavily edited chapters with new info as the plot thickens. (Chapter 1-5 is mostly fluff edits, will make Sin x Sam relationship development feel less rushed.)**

 **#StaySafe #Quarantine2020**

-0-0-0-

 **Magi**

 **Chapter VII: What's Left After a Kingdom Falls**

Three days passed since Sinbad read David's prophetic writing. No one has seen him since he locked himself away in his room. His head was occupied with thoughts of what his future holds. _Will the prophecy even come true? What does that mean for Samara and I? Is this what she meant when she said she had given up hope of living a life after the chaos has settled? What if she was right all along?_

During this time, the Holy Kingdom has been preparing for the festivities of an ascension ceremony. Samara had begun the preparations to relinquish her title to a new Spiritual Leader. The beauty of the country's theocracy is that they are always ready for ascension. No matter how short-lived a Priest or Priestess's reign might be. Instead of being sad or afraid, the citizens of Samaria celebrated the Spiritual Leader's thirst for a new conquest.

Sinbad heard a knock on the door. Once again, he did not answer. "Sin?" A familiar voice echoed in the hallway. It was Ja'Far standing at the doorway. After the third day, the General has had enough of coddling his King. Instead of bringing him a fresh tray of food only to come back and find it barely touched, he brought Masrur instead.

"Sin, open up!" Ja'Far knocked again, briskly and more demanding this time.

 _Silence_.

"Sinbad, open up!" The General raised his voice, "Or I'll be forced to think that you're in danger, and we'll have no choice but to break the door down."

The two generals made eye contact and nodded at each other. Ja'Far stood a couple of steps back, his hands back in their usual prayer position. Masrur rooted his left foot down, raising his right knee and swinging his leg for a forceful kick. Masrur followed through with his kick even when the door swung open before his foot even made contact. The King finally opened it, catching Masrur's incredible Fanalis strength in his gut. Even the High King of the Seven Seas could not keep his ground and slid a few inches back while grunting as he blocked the General's attack against the door.

"Finally," Ja'Far shrieked, forcing his way through the door and scanning his room, like a parent expecting to find their child's dirty secrets, "what's going on? The Priestess is suddenly stepping down from her position, and you're cooped up in here? What did you do this time?!"

Sinbad was not his usual self at all. The usually charming and vibrant King was nowhere to be found. He simply hunched his back over and walked back to sit at the edge of his bed. "Is the ascension today?"

"Yes, please go clean up!" Ja'Far scolded, pulling the King off his slouched posture and pushing him into the bathroom.

Masrur filled the wooden tub halfway with water. Ja'Far walked over and softly muttered, "Har-Har," a simple type of heat magic chant used to heat up or boil specific mass. Instantly, steam came up from the surface of the water. Masrur filled the rest of the tub with cold water to balance out the temperature.

Meanwhile, Sinbad leaned against the door frame of the balcony with his arms crossed, looking out into nothing. The King and his Generals could hear the distant hammering, cheering, laughter, even singing through the open windows of the castle.

Ja'Far noticed his King's despair and worried face. "Are you alright, Sin?"

The King turned his head as he snapped out of his deep thoughts, "Ah... yes. Just a lot of things on my mind."

"Did something happen since the night of the dinner you served with the Priestess?" Ja'Far asked concernedly, knowing what he and Masrur uncovered.

"Happened?" The King thought sincerely, as he started to strip down with no regard for privacy or decency.

"Alright," Masrur started walking out of the bathroom, "that's my cue."

Ja'Far closed his eyes for a moment while shaking his head. _The King is eccentric, sure, but this is new._

Sinbad started to sink in the tub, making the warm water spillover. "Well, no, but I have learned many things about the Priestess and myself that are quite fearsome."

"Is everything alright between the two of you?" Ja'Far followed up, trying to look away from the King, washing his body.

The King's eyes darted upwards, and his posture perked up when he suddenly realized it. He turned to his General, almost splashing water on him even from a few steps away, "Ja'Far, you truly are a genius!"

Ja'Far turned around reflexively after the King roared. Much to his dismay, Sinbad was already erect, dripping water where he stepped as he got out of the tub. "Ugh!" The General yelped, making a disgusted face while holding his hands in front of his face, trying to push away the naked image of his King.

Sinbad quickly grabbed fresh clothing, slipping his very masculine legs into the pants one after the other, "I keep thinking about how the prophecy will turn out, but the answer was right in front of me all along!" He tied his robe over his body and kissed Ja'Far on the forehead. Before the General could even process half of his King's incoherent ramblings, he already ran the other direction to search for the Priestess.

"Wait! What prophecy—?" Ja'Far ran after him, stopping in the bedroom after he was ignored. He turned to Masrur with growing distrust and suspicion in his eyes.

The King searched frantically, swinging the door open violently in the study, in the kitchen, and in the throne room. He found her in the prayer room, standing with her back turned towards him while reading David's prophetic book.

Sinbad slammed his hand on the open book, startling the Priestess, making her lean back as she put her left hand close to her chest, "Sinbad, you're up. Are you feeling okay? We haven't seen or heard from you in three—"

The King did not want to be rude, but he also couldn't wait to say his piece, "I asked if it was wrong of me to feel this way about you. You said that we shouldn't pursue it because of your complicated family history, and now I see how that history ties to me. I understand that you don't want to make the same mistakes as your family did. However, I also told you that we need to have something left to recognize ourselves after all of this chaos." The King rambled on. He was not even aware of her surprise.

Samara tried to grasp at Sinbad's excitement. She was gently squinting her eyes and shaking her head in a futile attempt to understand him.

The King finally paid attention to his audience and reeled in his blathering, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, since I've learned about David's prophecy, I've been lying awake at night, imagining how this would play out... In every scenario, no matter the outcome, all I know is that any future without you is not a future I want to have. We'll figure out the rest as we go!" It was like time has slowed as he knelt one knee to the ground and pulled his mother's wooden ring from around his neck, "Marry me, Samara."

The Priestess was now totally lost for words, eyes widened, trying her damndest to form some semblance of sound with her mouth. "I... uh... Sinbad, I don't know what to say..."

"Say yes, or at least take your time to think about it seriously, but please don't say no without giving it serious consideration." The King pleaded as he straightened out the chain holding the ring. He leaned over the Priestess, pushing her against the book stone to put the jewelry around her neck. "If you truly feel that you don't want to spend the rest of your life with me, I will not ask you again. Simply return this to me."

"Just take your time to think about it." He walked away after making the Priestess's heart race.

She stood with one elbow bent, a seemingly desperate grasp onto the edge of the book stone. The pages of David's prophetic writing crinkled prognostically, "Simply? There's nothing simple about this..." She tugged on the ring, chained around her neck, before sliding it inside of her robe.

A deep, loud horn signaled at the highest tower of the castle. White smoke slowly rose from the open windows of the tower, indicating a new Spiritual Leader has been chosen. On the third night after the previous Priest or Priestess renounces their official title as Protector of the Secrets of the New World, the country must unanimously choose a new spiritual leader. One of three eligible students will be called to ascend the throne and serve its people. The students must be descendants of the 72 Djinn or from the Fanalis bloodline. This is due to the magic their blood holds that allows them to travel across the Great Rift and cross over to the "Other Side" of the Dark Continent. They will serve and protect what secrets lie in the pool hidden by cloaking magic. A conclave is held where the three eligible students are tested physically, mentally, and spiritually. Then, a unanimous decision must be achieved by the current spiritual leader, the three students, and the descendants of the original Djinns on who should rightfully ascend the throne.

In this case, a young man aged 19 of the name Lian was chosen. Quite frankly, he did not know how to react. Dumbfounded by the news, he tried to process his new position as he and Samara walked up to her bed chambers alone.

Samara noticed his reasonable concern; he was wearing it on his sleeve, "Are you alright, Lian?"

Lian snapped out of his thoughts and tried to rearrange his worried facial expression. "Ah, yes, Priestess. I just never thought the day would come when I would be chosen. I-It's an honor."

"How are you feeling, honestly?"

"Honestly?" Lian contemplated whether to answer truthfully. Ultimately, he decided she was the only one he could trust with his honesty at this moment; she was the only one who would truly understand. "I am surprised, scared, and excited."

"Every emotion you're feeling is perfectly normal." The Priestess reassured, "I wasn't that surprised, to be honest."

Lian blushed, turning toward the Priestess, trying to confirm her honesty or if she was pulling his leg.

The Priestess chuckled, "You've been working hard, studying, and training – I've seen you excel in everything you do during your time here at the castle."

"Thank you, Priestess. I can't shake this feeling of fear, though – like I'm not ready."

The Priestess turned to him and smiled as they reached her bed chambers, reaching her hand to the doorknob, "I understand completely." She opened the door. "You fear the unknown, you fear you won't do a good job or not live up to expectations – that's precisely the reason I know you _are_ ready."

Lian was even more dumbfounded at the Priestess's contradiction. "How did you know you were ready?"

They walked in her chambers and straight into the bathroom. "Just like you, I didn't… This is the kind of occupation where you learn on the job." She joked, trying to ease his worries. "Only you can answer that question, Lian. You will learn to overcome the boundaries you've set for yourself and come out stronger and wiser after conquering each obstacle."

"When you stepped in, Priestess, it was so natural. It was as if you were born to be a leader. Yours are some big shoes to fill…"

"Plan to outdo your past, not others that came before you." She put her hands on his shoulders, "It's alright to be afraid, but don't ever doubt yourself. After all, it was a unanimous decision to elect you, and I think the elders know what they are doing, don't you?"

He chuckled nervously but with a hint of relief. He ran his fingers through the hair on the back of his head. "I guess you are right, Priestess."

She removed her hands from his shoulders and clasped them together, "Now, do you know what we're doing next?"

He nodded. "Yes, this is where I get initiated into Priesthood."

"Yes. We must descend into the water so that I can show you what we are guarding in this country." The Priestess only removed her shoes and kept the rest of her articles of clothing. She extended a hand towards Lian after he removed his shoes, "This is very important – do not let go of my hand while we're in transition, or we will both be lost."

"U-Understood."

They descended into the pool, hand in hand, as she led the way through the dimensional tunnels of the Rukh. Just at the edge of the Great Rift, bordering the "Other Side" is the most dangerous item in the world – the staff with a crescent ornament on top – David's key to fighting destiny.

"Allow this ancient knowledge to flow through you, Lian. Do not fight it." The Priestess instructed. Suspended by her magoi, they traveled the path of the Rukh towards the staff. The Rukh became darker and darker, the closer they got to their destination. To Lian, it was hard to explain, he had so many questions, but he had no time to formulate them. However, the Rukh that flowed through him gave him every answer he sought for. It was as if all the knowledge in the world flooded into his mind, but strangely, it was calming.

They reached the end of the path, and the Priestess grasped the handle of the staff.

"We are at the edge of the Great Rift. Only the Priest or Priestess retain the power to travel across to the Dark Continent. However, you cannot travel alone. This is a safety mechanism put in place by Ugo to protect the staff, ensuring it will never be removed from this place." The Priestess clarified.

"Why is that, Priestess?" Lian asked while studying the intricate design of the staff.

"The staff is the key that opens the dimension where all Rukh is stored – in the Sacred Palace, guarded by Ugo, King Solomon's Djinn. Did you notice the Black Rukh on our way here?"

"Yes."

"That Black Rukh is emanating from the organization called Al-Tharmen. Only their consciousness exists now on the 'Other Side.' Over time, they have found a way to channel that consciousness into magical objects in our New World. They grow stronger the more they can influence the Rukh in our world."

"What keeps them from simply obtaining the staff, Priestess?"

"Good, you're paying attention." The Priestess turned toward the very edge of the Great Rift and waved the staff, removing a cloak of black smoke and revealing a large gate. "This is the door to the 'Other Side.' Our Alma Torran ancestors' blood allows you to travel in the Great Rift. However, without a beacon to guide you, you will never find this place in the vast darkness of the Rift."

"You mean the staff?"

"Correct. Once I transfer the responsibility of protecting the staff to you, only you will be able to find the key and the gate."

"How come I am not able to travel here alone?"

"Just as you need a beacon to travel to this destination, you need a landmark to travel back home. If we let go and I lose you in this darkness, neither of us will be able to find our way back without removing the staff. The staff has become part of the foundation of the Rift; removing it will cause the collapse of the veil separating our two worlds – which will likely destroy both."

"I see. How did the staff get here in the first place? Is there any way to remove it from this place?"

"Originally, the Torran Tribe oversaw guarding the staff in the New World because they were the only ones who did not forget what happened in Alma Torran. When Al-Tharmen's consciousness and influence started seeping in from the 'Other Side,' Ugo and the Underground City Chiefs decided that it was best to put the staff in a place where only certain people can access it. It was a Fanalis that brought the staff down here, knowing she would not find her way back home. As for removing the staff, there is only one way – the staff exists as a significant foundation of the Rift, the only barrier between the destroyed world of Alma Torran and our New World – something of equal magic must be exchanged for its existence here. This is a difficult task because natural laws are different here. Even a Magi can't influence the Rukh in this environment. We can only use the magoi we have within ourselves here in the Great Rift."

Lian gulped after realizing what the Priestess was implying, "The magic of the Rukh flowing through the descendants…"

"Right again. A descendant must be exchanged for the staff to hold the structure of the Great Rift. The staff can then open the door into our New World, allowing the removal of it from the Great Rift. However, a descendant's magoi will eventually be depleted, and the barrier of the Great Rift will collapse, unleashing the Black Rukh here into our world."

Lian pondered in silence.

"Do you understand, Lian – the weight of the responsibility of being our country's Priest?" The Priestess asked as she held in her left hand, the most dangerous weapon in the world, and in her right hand, the one to succeed that heavy burden.

Lian paused for a minute. "I understand. We must protect the secret of this new world – that opening the dimension where the New World's Rukh is stored and influencing it once more is still possible, but also at the cost of freeing Al-Tharmen from the dimension they are banished from. Therefore, undoing all of King Solomon's legacy and throwing away all his sacrifices to waste, risking Black Rukh to paint the souls of all the citizens in the world… eventually leading to another apocalyptic destruction like what happened in Alma Torran."

"That is correct. Do you accept this responsibility?"

Lian tried to fight the primal instinct of fear and try to rid himself of any doubt. "… Yes, I do."

"I also want you to understand that this is too heavy of a heavy burden to ask one person to bear. No one will fault you for stepping down when you have found a different purpose to serve, just as I have."

"I understand the burden, the risks, and my options. Thank you, Priestess Samara." Lian looked up at her with honest, resolved eyes.

The Priestess handed the staff to Lian, and with that, the ascension ritual was complete.

They rose back to the surface of the pool, and they changed out of their wet clothes. Luna awaited them with towels and fresh robes. Samara said her goodbyes to her loyal guard, and Priest Lian was announced in the throne room of the castle. The other students wore long white robes to celebrate the ascension. Lian joined them in celebration as he was handed food and ale. It was a common custom after an ascension ritual that the citizens will want to touch and "bless" the new Spiritual Leader.

Priestess Samara walked down the steps of the dais for the last time. The King met her at the bottom of the steps. No one could see their expressions through the veils they were wearing, but their eyes conveyed their feelings to one another.

The King did not break eye contact with her, "You look a little rough for wear. How did the ascension ritual go?"

"It is done… I am not the Priestess anymore." Samara stated nostalgically.

The King extended an elbow to her, "You will always be a Priestess of this country, just as you will forever be King Solomon's daughter. Now, let us celebrate the ascension of the new priest!"

She smiled, lacing a hand around his elbow. The King gently pushed her without letting go of her hand. She twirled under their interlaced fingers as they danced the night away, forgetting all their worries for a moment.


	8. Arrival in Sindria

**DISCLAIMER:** _Magi_ and other discernible characters/quotes/citations belong to their respective authors. I do not own original content _Magi_. No profits were made.

 **COVER CREDITS:** MAGI THE LABYRINTH OF MAGIC BY SHINOBU OHTAKA (c). Cover Credits: Original Fan Character by Aladdina.

Cited: magi. Fandom wiki

 **A/N: Another heavily edited chapter. Almost there, guys. Please bear with me! New content soon~**

 **#StaySafe #Quarantine2020**

-0-0-0-

 **Magi**

 **Chapter VIII: Arrival in Sindria**

The next day, the King walked to the docks to ready their Sindrian ship to go back to their own country. He gave orders to the crew to check if every component of the vessel was in running condition. He also talked to his first mate regarding the sailing conditions and told him to obtain any provisions they need as he handed him a sack of coin.

Samara wore a smirk as she boarded the Sindrian ship and walked towards the King, who was just finishing up his conversation. "You know, my coming to this little 'vacation to meet my siblings' as you call it, is not my answer to your question, right?"

The King leaned over the ship deck's railing, staring out into the open sea, a smirk started to form on his face as he turned to the Priestess, "Nor is it your refusal to my _proposal_. I'm happy just knowing you wear my heart close to yours." He stood upright as his eyes teasingly wandered down her cleavage, where she still wore his mother's ring around her neck.

The Priestess widened her grin under her veil and simply shook her head; she gently touched Sinbad's shoulder, sliding her palm across the musculature of his upper arm, as she walked away, leaving the King's heart aching for more of her touch. _Spirit of mind and sound, Zepar... please guide me_.

The King made his way onto the helm of the ship. "All aboard!"

The crew scurried to execute their jobs, such as raising the anchor, dropping the sails, and securing the lines and ropes that support the mast.

Samara stood next to Sinbad. They gave each other one last look of certainty before looking out into the horizon. She could smell salt in the air, feel the breeze through her hair, and the sun on her skin. She closed her eyes to basque in the glory of it all. In a few days, she will be able to meet her brothers again.

Once they were cruising in open water, the King turned over control of the ship to his first mate. He joined the others for a well-deserved meal with laughter and singing.

After dinner, Ja'Far led the Priestess to the captain's quarters, "Our King insisted that you stay in the captain's quarters, Priestess."

"How generous. I'll be sure to thank the King next time I see him. Goodnight, Ja'Far." She opened the door and walked in.

Ja'Far gave a small bow and walked to his shared cabin, where the King and Masrur already claimed both top bunks. He clearly showed his disdain. "I'd rather sleep on the floor than under either of you." He angrily pulled the thin mattress and sheets out of the King's bottom bunk.

"You snooze, you lose." Masrur goaded, and Ja'Far scowled at him.

"I trust the Priestess is comfortable?" The King asked, laying flat on his back with an arm under his head.

"Yes, I drew a bath for her before showing her to her cabin," Ja'Far assured in an angry voice as he made his bed on the floor.

"Very good. Thank you, Ja'Far."

"Say, Sin, do you trust the Priestess?" Masrur did not beat around the bush.

"I—No—I don't know yet…" the King responded honestly.

"Are you sure about this? You are going to let someone you don't trust right into the heart of our kingdom?" Ja'Far challenged.

"I know it's not easy to understand…" the King was at a loss for words. He looked up at the ceiling to try and find them, "I am usually so skeptical, so calculative, but with her—it's easy… everything comes easy—laughing with her, crying with her, protecting her, trusting her—it comes so naturally easy for me that it makes me _uneasy_."

"Do you love her?" Ja'Far asked.

Without a moment's hesitation, the King responded, "I do…"

"So, you're going to risk the lives of our people that you so desperately tried to protect – just for one woman?" Ja'Far asked, bluntly, and disappointedly. "Aren't you being a bit selfish here?"

"This will be the first and only time…" the King pleaded, almost whining like a child.

Ja'Far sighed sympathetically and raised an eyebrow, "You're not really in a position where you can be selfish. You are the High King of the Seven Seas. You have far too much to lose. Not only that, but the citizens you rule over also have far too much to lose if they lost a king like yourself."

"I would risk it all to help her…" the King rooted his resolve as he sat upright, swinging his legs over the top bunk.

Ja'Far sighed helplessly and decided to come back to this subject at a later time, "Say, you ran off yesterday, blabbering about a prophecy – what's all that about?"

"Where to begin?" The King turned to his generals. "Well, the Priestess is actually very old..."

His generals tilted their heads as they were very perplexed.

"How old exactly?" Masrur clarified.

"She's as old as time, I guess?" The King held his chin and thought deeply on what to let on next, "She's not from this world. You see, Ugo created the world we live in now, but before that, they lived in a world called Alma Torran – along with her family, King Solomon, and his Divine Staves. She has three younger brothers – Tess, the oldest of the three, was killed by her grandfather. He was the son of King Solomon's Divine Staves, Wahid and Falan; the second brother was named Jedidiah, he was adopted by Arba; the youngest is Aladdin, he is the son of Queen Sheba."

Both of his generals were simply dumbfounded, awaiting further clarification. Was there even anything to clarify? Was he pulling their legs? Has he just lost his mind completely?

He waved his hand in front of him and stuttered. Of course, even he wouldn't believe what he was saying. He tried to explain further, "Well, see, Samara is King Solomon's firstborn child to a woman named Arba – she was originally King Solomon's servant, who later became his best friend and one of his Three Wise Magi." The King cleared his throat and glanced back and forth between his two generals, "Arba later had a change of heart and founded… Al-Tharmen."

The King was waiting for outrage from at least one of them, but they remained calm as if they expected the worst news. Ja'Far simply asked, "Do you know where she stands in the matter?"

"As far as I understand, Samara is more her father's daughter, very much like Aladdin, and she was also raised by Ugo after the collapse of Alma Torran. The way she has established leadership in her country, all the funny little details – they were refinements of King Solomon's ideals. So far, she hasn't given me any reason to doubt her. You guys were right. I was trying to win her fancy. I have developed feelings for Samara."

Ja'Far took a moment of silence and sighed, "As your advisor, it is my sacred duty to be completely honest with you, no matter how hard the truths. Your feelings for the Priestess, it makes me happy to see how much good she has influenced you already…"

"But?" The King did not hide his annoyance, but it was his responsibility to listen to how he might be failing as a King.

"…but the same feelings that have brought out the best in you may also be clouding your judgment. How can you possibly be objective in this matter?"

"You both are excellent at your jobs – protecting the King, always being wary of the people who get close to the King, being honest with the King. You're right; I can't be objective – which is precisely why we are having this conversation, and I'm honest with you both. You see, I asked for her hand in marriage."

There was a long pause. Ja'Far tilted his head to the other side and scratched his eyebrow with his middle finger. Masrur looked at Ja'Far with his same blank and awkward stare.

Ja'far felt the weight of his obligation to his King and his country before breaking the silence. "Sin, there is something you should know." Ja'Far started to feel the weight of the guilt of breaking his friend's hopes. "The Priestess had a secret vault underneath her bathroom floor. Upon submerging oneself in the water-filled vault, you will discover it has cloaking magic and clairvoyance magic."

"What were they guarding?" The King asked adamantly. His brows furrowed, not wanting to acknowledge the possibility that his relationship with Samara might not work out.

"…a golden staff."

"Do you know what the staff is used for?" The King asked, regretting his words immediately after uttering them.

"We were hoping you could answer that question… Does the staff have anything to do with your prophecy?"

"The prophecy states that Samara's grandfather, David, will…" the King raised an eyebrow, cleared his throat, and added unconfident accents to his next words, "rematerialize in this new world that Ugo created through a Singularity…"

"Meaning you, Sin." Masrur clarified.

Then, there was a long silence.

Ja'Far inhaled deeply trying to contain his annoyance, "Well, it is not something we can fix right now on a box floating on the open ocean." He turned away from the other gentlemen and put his blanket over his shoulder.

The King opened his mouth, about to say something. He soon realized that he had nothing to say since he didn't know what to say in his defense. He just blew out the large candle illuminating the room and also went to sleep, hoping for a fresh start in the morning.

When they woke, they were in Sindrian waters. Samara walked out to the ship's deck, still wearing her long Samarian robes and facial veil. The warm southern wind blew ever so gently, and she looked like she was floating gracefully.

The King stood next to her as they overlooked the dock. "Good morning, Priestess." He looked down at her hand. He wanted to run his fingertips gently against her soft, white skin. God knows how much strength it took not to touch her.

"I am not the Priestess anymore, Sinbad." She turned to him, still charmingly enigmatic, "Please, it's just Samara."

The King gave her a slight smile, "Welcome to Sindria, Samara." Even simply saying her name made him ache for her.

The ship docked, and they came off-board. The rest of the King's Generals were waiting for them.

"Welcome home, Sin!" Pisti greeted them. She put her pointer finger up to her lips in thought, "You guys were gone for a long time…"

"Hello, everyone." The King smiled at them, "We are home."

Samara followed behind the King.

"Eh?" Pisti peeked behind Sinbad, recognizing a friend of her mother's she met when she was a child. "What is the Priestess of Samaria doing here?"

The King put his hand behind her waist, "Everyone, allow me to introduce Samara, _former_ Priestess of the Holy Kingdom of Samaria."

"It is an honor to meet you all. I've heard good things from Sinbad." Samara bowed slightly.

"Former?" Yamraiha questioned. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she leaned towards Sinbad with a finger nearly touching his face, "What have you done this time, Sin?!"

"Nothing! …yet." The King responded. "Oh, that reminds me! Is Aladdin back from Magnostadt?"

Samara's eyes lit up with excitement as they darted towards the King.

"Not yet," Spartos responded.

"Then, shall we go and visit him in Magnostadt?" The King suggested as he turned to Samara, speaking to her like they were the only two people in the world.

"You just got back to your country. Are you sure it is wise to leave yet again?" Samara asked concernedly.

"I have complete faith in my Generals' abilities." The King responded; his eyes still locked in with hers.

Drakkon added, "We will be fine, Priestess. You came all the way here to meet Aladdin; it must be an important business you have with him. You must go!"

"You guys should at least stay for the Mahrajan in two days," Sharrkan suggested a middle ground.

The group started to walk towards the palace.

"Mahrajan?" The Priestess inquired curiously.

"It's the harvest festival here in Sindria. A few times a year, the southern creatures inhabiting the waters around the island come and attack the mainland. It is the duty of the King and the Eight Generals to fight them off. Our creative King Sinbad has turned the attacks into a performance to calm the citizens, and it also earned us some tourists." Hinahoho added.

"That sounds quite fun and exciting. We should stay since it is part of the King's duties. I would also like to see more of Sindria's culture." Samara giggled in excitement.

"She is right, Sin. They were such hospitable hosts. Now, we must return the favor." Ja'Far advocated.

"You guys are absolutely right. It would be an honor to show you around, Samara." The King gestured a polite bow, extending his right foot back, lifting his left arm to his side with his palm facing up and placing his right hand across his heart, guiding his head down – all in one swift motion.

"Who is this guy?" Sharrkan joked, "what have you done to our King?"

"He hasn't been drinking either," Masrur added, compliments intended. "Not a drop for almost two months now."

"What?!" Yamraiha exclaimed, "Then, I definitely agree – this is not the same King you left with."

They all continued laughing and talking until they reached the palace. They were greeted by beautiful Sindrian women who were servants at the castle. The lot of them wore a wreath of flowers on their heads and midriffs that showed their voluptuous curves.

"Oh, King Sinbad, you're finally home! What took you guys so long?" One of the beautiful servants said flirtatiously.

The King chuckled awkwardly as they all swarmed around him. "Well, ladies…"

"What's wrong, King Sinbad?" One of the girls started rubbing his shoulders, "you seem tense. Do you need us to help you _relax_ a little bit?"

"Umm… no, thank you…" The King backed away from the swarm of lovely women doting over him.

"You made your own bed. You're on your own, Sin." Ja'Far said, unforgivingly, as he and the other Generals all walked past their King. "I'm wiped. I'm taking a bath and heading straight to bed."

"Same here." Masrur added, "No one wake me until the harvest festival!"

Yamraiha walked up to Samara and asked, "Shall we get you situated in a guest room in the Green Sagittarius Tower? I can have a bath drawn for you."

"Ah, yes. That would be wonderful after a long trip." Samara responded gratefully.

The King ran away from his flock and stopped the lady General and the former Priestess, "Uh, actually, she can stay with us in the Purple Leo Tower. We have plenty of empty rooms."

"What?! The King's private living quarters?" The girls whined and pouted, "we've never even been invited up there?!"

Yamraiha got the message, "Alright, Sin. I trust you'll take good care of our guest?"

"Of course." The King smiled without tearing his gaze away from Samara.

Yamraiha shooed the servants away, "Now, now, girls. Don't you have other work to do elsewhere?"

The King led Samara to her guest chambers, the only room across the hall from his own. He opened the door to a large and magnificent bedroom – fresh fruits laid out on the table, a beautiful hand-carved bed with thin white curtains hanging over it, and soft, smooth silk sheets to top it off. Not to mention the incredible view of the sea through the slightly cracked window, letting the warm Sindrian breeze in.

"I haven't been here one full day, Sinbad, and you're already making enemies for me with all this special treatment," Samara said, half-jokingly as she entered the room.

"I am so sorry about that, Samara. I will make sure to clear things up with the girls." The King pleaded as he placed Samara's suitcase in the wardrobe.

"I am not going to fault you for your past, Sinbad." She simply chuckled as she stepped out into the balcony, the King followed. She leaned over the concrete railing, soaking in the southern sunset, the salty breeze gently blowing to move her veil, "What a beautiful country."

The King took Samara's left hand into his right, guiding her to face him. Once again, they found themselves drowning in the depths of each others' eyes, "I never imagined I'd love you this profoundly when I first met you." He reached his left hand to her cheek, still covered by the veil, "May I?"

She pressed his left hand into her cheek, almost as if smelling him, taking a moment to root down her resolve. She gently nodded.

This was it, the very fragile and intimate moment for Samarians that the King has been longing for. He gently pulled out the hairpin holding her hair up in a braided bun and pinning the strings of the facial veil. Her long dark blue locks fell ever so smoothly onto her shoulders, wavy from the braid being undone—it was covering her face a bit as she looked down, timidly. The King moved her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear, revealing her deep blue eyes once more. As his fingers ran through her soft hair, he took the opportunity to grab the veil gently and tugged it away from her face – his heart beating faster and faster with each second that passed by. He lifted her chin, and she gazed into his golden eyes once more as he slipped his other hand from her hip to the small of her back, bringing her closer to his body. He assumed she was just as beautiful as her soul. However, he did not expect how blinding her beauty was, just like the sun, yet still, accompanied by all the darkness and wonder of the night – luscious dark blue hair and big, round blue eyes like Aladdin's and her father's, a petite nose and pink lips like her mother's. He wanted to cover her right back up and shut her away in his castle so that only he may gaze upon such beauty. Looking at her, it was like a blind man seeing the sun, moon, and stars for the first time.

"Sinbad…" Samara called out softly with a nervous tone, afraid she might not be able to refuse him this time. "We shouldn't – this is not what we came here for."

"Do you not like this?" The smooth-talking conqueror pressed their foreheads together, lightly rubbing her nose with his, "Would you like me to stop?"

She could feel her knees weaken as he exhaled her next breath, "That's not a fair question to ask…"

"I'll just continue, then…" The King gave Samara a soft peck on the lips.

She did not resist. How could she? With his raspy voice, big strong hands, expert technique, and sweet words, how could she not fall for him and his dirty old tricks?

The King tilted his head the other way and kissed her softly again, but this time, his tongue asking for entry as he sucked gently on her lower lip. She gasped lightly for air, and his masterful tongue slid under hers, swirling gently around her mouth, causing a mystifying fusillade of emotions, making her tingle in all the right places. He started to walk her backward and leaned her against the French door of the balcony, not once letting go of any part of her he had conquered before.

She let out a soft moan as soon as she pressed against the door behind her due to the King simultaneously parting her thighs with his own. She was only a few inches shorter than him so she could feel his hardening member even through their clothes as he pressed his groin against hers. She wasn't sure what this strange feeling was, but it was slowly deluging her, making her head all fuzzy. Without even noticing it, she started undulating her hips onto his thigh, in the same rhythm as their intensifying kiss.

The King did not recognize this feeling overwhelming him, either. He had more than enough experience to aid him in this venture, but this was completely different. When he engaged in intimacy before, it was merely to satisfy an urge, to quench his lust. However, being with Samara, kissing her soft lips, touching her curves, feeling her heat – this filled him with ecstasy that he never experienced before – making love… Not just meaningless coitus but engaging in the sacred act of actual _lovemaking_. Nothing could have prepared him for that.

She continued instinctually moving her hips against the King's thigh, pressing harder and harder into her wetness, unwittingly rubbing her own leg against the King's throbbing erection. He let out a soft groan as he sent a shivering orgasm up his spine to avoid cumming just yet.

"Sinbad—" she managed to utter between kisses and grinding, "Sin, we should stop…"

He physically could not hear her words at first. Then, he realized what she asked for and stopped moving his hips along with her and relaxed his feet and legs back on level ground. He nestled his face in her neck, placing gentle kisses along her shoulder as he pushed his forearms against the door, paralleling her head, trying to quell his need to touch her, "I'm sorry… I-I could barely bring myself to stop."

She grabbed the sides of his head, just between the cheeks and ears, and kissed him on the forehead. "You did, you heard me, and you stopped. Thank you."

This beautiful moment of firsts was interrupted by a knock on the door. The King let go of Samara and walked towards the door, slightly annoyed and slightly relieved. He really didn't know how to stop himself from devouring her. Sinbad opened the door to find Yamraiha on the other side.

She pinched the King's ear and dragged him outside, "Stop bothering the Priestess!" She shut the door, but not before peeking back and apologizing to Samara, "Sorry about our rude King, Samara!"

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" The King exclaimed exaggeratingly. "Now who's being rude?"

Samara just smiled back at the lady General and bowed politely as she closed the door.

Yamraiha crossed her arms and looked at her King with disappointing eyes. "Come to the library in the Black Libra Tower. We have much to discuss!"

"Ah, whatever. You ruined the mood anyway!" the King brought about his childlike self and pouted yet again.

"So, what on earth possessed you to propose to a woman you barely know and don't even trust?" Yamraiha got straight to the point without even reaching the Black Libra Tower yet.

The King's Rukh suddenly changed from dark to somewhat lighter. "Ja'Far told you?"

"As he should." Yamraiha scolded, "Actually, you should have, idiot!"

"I… can't really explain it, Yam." Sinbad scratched the back of his head. "It's like… being with her is as natural as breathing and, at the same time, leaves me breathless. I would do anything, give anything to earn her love…"

"I don't get it. Why are you so desperate for her to love you back?"

"Well, you see… ever since I met her, falling for her, everything that happened in between – it feels as if it lifted this heavy weight off my shoulders – like loving her and her loving me back, falling deeply for each other, it would be enough to save me from falling completely. Do you get what I'm saying?"

They reached the library doors, and Yamraiha let out a low-spirited groan as she opened them, the rest of the Generals waiting for them inside. "It's confirmed, friends. The High King of the Seven Seas is very much in love."

"Hey, I thought you guys were going to sleep for days on end?" The King entered hurriedly, "but you're actually conniving against my back?!"

"Well, Sin, all this conniving was actually productive," Ja'Far reassured, tucking both of his hands into his sleeves, in a prayer pose.

"There's only one way to rid ourselves of all our distrust once and for all." Drakkon declared.

"You're absolutely right." The King affirmed confidently like he was reading his Generals' minds. "We must ask Aladdin himself."

His Generals smiled at this compromise.


	9. Happy Mahrajan

**DISCLAIMER:** _Magi_ and other discernible characters/quotes/citations belong to their respective authors. I do not own original content _Magi_. No profits were made.

 **COVER CREDITS:** MAGI THE LABYRINTH OF MAGIC BY SHINOBU OHTAKA (c). Cover Credits: Original Fan Character by Aladdina.

Cited: magi. Fandom wiki

 **A/N #10:** **I wanted to upload these during Christmas break, but man! It was hard to win that battle against Writer's Block! Thanks for waiting~ Happy reading, y'all!**

 **A/N #8a: Repolished chapter 7-8, yet again. Not much has changed, just added a few bridges to make the scenes flow better. Still, please be sure to recap from Ch. 7 before continuing onto 9, 10!**

-0-0-0-

 **Magi**

 **Chapter IX: Happy Mahrajan**

There was only one day left before the harvest festival commences. After a full day's rest, a refreshing bath, and a fantastic meal, everyone was ready to help prepare for the festival. They started the day off with some training. Sinbad was sparring squarely with Masrur when Samara arrived at the training grounds of the Silver Scorpio Tower.

"Who's winning?" Samara asked as she walked up to the benches where Ja'Far, Hinahoho, and Yamraiha were sitting.

"Drakkon is winning by about four hits against Sharrkan; Pisti is definitely kicking Spartos's butt; Masrur is going way too easy on Sinbad…" Hinahoho reported.

Ja'Far looked up at her and noticed a slight variance in her appearance, "Oh, you're not wearing your facial veil today, Priestess?"

Samara smiled as she gazed at the King, exhibiting his fighting prowess, "No, not today," she responded ambiguously to Ja'Far's question. She turned to him and gave a tentative answer, "I thought it made me stand out like a sore thumb. I wanted to blend in a little more."

"We want to be respectful of your culture, you don't have to take it off to feel that you belong." Yamraiha offered sincerely.

"Yes, any guest of Sin's is welcome here no matter the attire, age, status, or gender." Hinahoho further reassured.

Samara giggled quietly. "Then, would you do me the honor of sparring with me, Hinahoho?"

The three Generals on the bench exchanged glances at her strange request, wondering why she dodged the topic entirely.

"Are you sure you wouldn't want to spar with me instead?" Yamraiha clarified.

"Hinahoho would do just fine as a sparring partner," Samara responded with a gentle smile.

"We're not worried about that, Priestess…" Ja'Far was dumbfounded.

Samara wagged her finger at him, "Mm-mm, not a Priestess anymore, Ja'Far. Just Samara will do. Thank you."

Hinahoho stood up, towering over Samara, "Well, if you insist, Samara. Be warned, I won't go easy on you."

"I expect nothing less from the future Chief of Imuchakk." Samara bowed slightly.

The pair stepped into one of the rings on the sand.

"Your weapon of choice?" Hinahoho asked.

Samara untied a long blue scarf-like cloth from her waist, surprising the Generals, even those in the middle of a sparring match, causing them to be momentarily distracted. She laid it over both of her palms facing the sky, "This flying scarf here will do."

Hinahoho blinked rapidly twice, in confusion and awe. "A-Alright, then… Here I come!" He charged at her with his red, spikey harpoon.

Samara lifted her right arm and wrapped the scarf around the tip of Hinahoho's weapon and easily deflected his attack, disarming the huge man. Everyone blinked a few times, not believing what they couldn't see.

"What just happened?" Pisti asked excitedly, "I couldn't even see Samara's moves!"

"You couldn't see the actual movements because your eyes focused on the fluttery illusion of the scarf." The King explained.

Hinahoho chuckled, "We were right to keep you around for the Mahrajan."

Samara squeezed the long end of the scarf between her left thumb and palm. She grabbed the shorter end with her right hand and slid the scarf over and behind her head, extending her arms perpendicular to each other, and her left foot pivoted towards her opponent. She turned her fingers upwards and curled them toward herself, calling Hinahoho forward for another chance to hit her.

He simply held up both of his hands and laughed, humbly yielding. "I know when I'm defeated."

Samara lowered her hands and bowed, "Thank you for your time."

"It was my pleasure." Hinahoho picked up his weapon and sat back down on the sidelines.

 _A flying scarf, huh?_ Ja'Far thought to himself.

Hinahoho sat upright and crossed his arms next to the two generals watching the fight. "I know what both of you are thinking."

Yamraiha interjected, putting her hand on her chin, "I wonder if it's just like Aladdin's flying turban…"

The former Priestess started to tie the scarf back around her waist. She was looking down when the King swooped in and laced his hand on the small of her back. She looked up and found her lips meeting with his as the rest of her front side met all of his. Awkwardly putting her arms up by his shoulders, not knowing where to place her hands, she unknowingly held her breath, unable to think – she was frozen as she still wasn't quite used to his romantics.

He pulled away from her a little after their kiss and asked, "Where is your veil? Everyone here is staring at you _too_ intently."

Samara put her hands on the King's chest and gave him a little pat, "They're staring because I am a stranger so warmly welcomed by their King. Of course, they have a right to be curious. The veil only made me seem unapproachable and piqued their interest more because of the anonymity of the concept."

"I still don't like them gawking at you." The King looked up and sneered at the people, gesturing for them to look away.

Sharrkan put an arm on Spartos's shoulders and whistled, "Man, oh man, Sinbad is already marking his territory. Sorry, kid, the King's game is a long way ahead of yours." He winked at him.

Spartos blushed and shoved his friend away. "Shut up!"

Yamraiha turned and whispered to Ja'Far, "This could be a problem…"

Ja'Far kept his hands together, tucked away in his sleeves, praying for the best outcome for his King, his friend. "Not if Aladdin vouches for her."

"Let's hope he does…" Hinahoho said. None of the three generals tore their gazes away from the former Priestess.

On the day of the Mahrajan…

The King, and his Generals, put on quite a show for the citizens and brought in quite a big haul for the feast, but the real spectacle was when Samara floated in the air in a bright golden borg of White Rukh, held her hands out and pushed out an intense quantity of magoi to fend off the most colossal sea monster of that year's harvest festival. The spectators were not sure if she could actually communicate with the beast or if it just cowered away in fear of an apex predator.

The citizens clapped as their heroes paraded through town after the harvest. It was the citizens' duty to cook the yield from the harvest for the Mahrajan feast as the warriors bathe and get ready for the festivities.

They arrived at the castle, and everyone went to their respective bedchambers. Sinbad took Samara's hand as they walked through the hallway alone. Sinbad prayed that the corridor would never end. Alas, they came to the end of the hall where they must part ways and go to their separate rooms.

She looked over at him, and they turned to face each other.

"We'll conserve more water if you join me in the bath," the King said playfully as he pulled her waist closer to his and nuzzled his forehead against hers, kissing her nose.

She chuckled as she put her right arm around him and held up their intertwined hands to her chest, "You… are such a smooth-talker."

They shared a soft, long kiss.

She kept nuzzling their foreheads and noses together after the kiss. "Sinbad… I want to say something to you," she bit her lower lip lightly then spoke softly, "You shouldn't kiss me in front of your Generals or in front of your subjects…"

The King chuckled nervously, "Have I offended you, Priestess?"

"No," she kissed him again, softly, "not at all…" and once more, "I just need to earn their trust and respect first."

"You really are quite amazing." The King kissed her a little more intensely. They both giggled and chuckled after.

"We need to bathe," Samara stated and kissed him again, playfully.

"My offer still stands." The King kissed her back.

Samara laughed and pushed him away, "You need to go bathe—on your own! You stink."

She was walking further away, and her hand was slipping out of the King's—he could not bear it—so he pulled her close for another kiss, this time a big, sloppy, wet one for good measure.

"You are insatiable." Samara laughed.

"I can't bear to be apart from you. I am begging you, please stay with me." The King pleaded like a child.

She smiled gently, "Keep me close to your heart."

"I intend to…" He kissed her one last time, "…always."

They parted ways and readied themselves in their respectful rooms.

After her bath, Samara sat in front of her mirror and casted a clairvoyance spell. A Samarian scholar answered on the other side. "I do not have much time. Please get a message to Lian – _Prepare for the worst, I might need the key_."

A knock was heard on Samara's door. "Are you decent?" The King inquired.

Samara's concentration broke, thus breaking the clairvoyance magic. She cleared her throat, "Yes, come on in."

"That's a shame," The King whispered disappointedly under his breath as he opened the door, unaware of more of the Priestess's secrets.

Samara was fully clothed and had just finished braiding her hair and circling it up in a bun, securing it with a pin. She turned to the King, and he was still in awe of her blinding beauty. Suddenly, he frowned.

"No veil tonight, either?" He asked, pleadingly.

Samara smiled as she walked to meet him next to the bed. "Truthfully?"

He took both of her hands in his.

Her face flushed at her next words, "It makes it hard to do this…" she leaned in, closed her eyes, and gave the King a soft kiss.

The King exhaled lightly and held her face with one hand, bringing her closer by the waist using the other, deepening their kiss. He pulled away and smiled, "You drive a hard bargain, woman."

She smiled back, "The purpose of the veil was never to hide oneself. Quite the opposite, really – it is meant to reveal more."

The King held her closer and whispered in her ear, "What do you say we skip the festival and reveal much more to each other?"

"Let's take it one proposal at a time, High King of the Seven Seas." She took his hand from around her waist and led him to the door. "You still need to return the hospitality I showed you."

They walked beside each other, talking about the silliest random topics, but neither of them would prefer to do anything else with anyone else. Arriving at the festival night market, they attracted everyone's attention. From afar, they looked like a match made in heaven, the kind of couple that radiated happiness and are living proof of the possibility of forever, which made the King's previous conquests quite jealous.

"Sindria's economy thrives because of the trade market. Many of its citizens are traders from other countries that settled here after they established trade with us." The King explained.

Samara stopped at one of the stalls and looked at the handcrafted jewelry. She picked up one of the intricate necklaces from the table and turned to the vendor, "Beautiful design. Did you make these yourself?"

"Ah, yes, miss." He responded, and brought his daughter forward, gently guiding her by the shoulders. "My young daughter has a talent for design, and we make them together."

"You've done a great job. What's your name?" Samara complimented.

The young girl, about 8 years old, shyly put her fingers up to her mouth and responded softly. "Amila…"

The King simply watched their interaction unfold, with his hands laced behind his back.

"My name is Samara. It's lovely to meet you." She held up the necklace she picked out before. "How much for this beautiful necklace, Amila?"

She looked up at her father, who gently smiled and nodded at her. She started counting on her left hand, with the fingers of her right hand, still touching her lips. She held up three fingers of her left hand to Samara and confidently responded, "Five coins, please!"

The King chuckled and pulled out his coin pouch and handed the little girl double the amount she initially declared. "Happy Mahrajan, Amila."

The young girl simply handed it to her father, who thanked the generous King.

"It's a great choice, miss." Amila's eyes lit up, and her shyness faded away. "I think it would suit you really nicely."

Samara smiled at her, "You know what I think? I think it would look way better on you." She encouraged the little girl to come around the corner of her stall. "May I?"

Once again, the young girl looked up at her father for approval. He nodded gently again. Amila excitedly walked in front of Samara so she can put on the necklace over her head, adjusting the string so the pendant would be level to her chest. Finally, pulling her long hair over the nape of her neck.

"Just as I thought, it looks great on you." Samara smiled and gently smoothed her thumb on the young girl's cheek.

Amila hugged her tightly, and she hugged her back for a bit of time, allowing the girl to let go first. "Thank you, miss Samara."

The former Priestess, who retains all of her grace, patted her head, "You're very welcome. Happy Mahrajan."

The girl went back to her father's side and waved the couple goodbye.

The King led the way again, and they went to a more secluded part of the island. They walked through a bit of forestry to reveal a lagoon separated from the rest of the sea by a calm inlet. The King lifted a large leaf out of the way to show an even better feature of the body of water – there was a flash of blue-green light where the ocean met the sand along the shoreline.

"Oh my…" Samara's jaw dropped in awe, her eyes forward, bringing her fingers to cover her open mouth. "Sinbad, it's beautiful."

The King smiled, not tearing his gaze away from her, wanting to replace those fingers touching her mouth with his lips. "Very beautiful…"

She looked back at him and noticed he wasn't talking about the lagoon at all, making her blush.

"Fair warning, though – the illuminated waters may be enchantingly beautiful, but it proved mildly toxic earlier on, causing effects seen in mild poisoning such as vomiting, slight fever, some citizens have reported that long exposure to the waters can affect their memory for a short time."

Samara stopped at the edge of dry land, "Thank you for the warning. It is certainly compelling to dip your toes in."

"This phenomenon is the reason why I chose to build the Kingdom of Sindria on this island. In all of my travels, I have never seen a sight quite like it… until I met you."

"You're very kind, High King." Samara coyly responded, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"It is nothing compared to your kindness and grace." They walked on the dock and arrived at a small boat at the end. He extended his hand to Samara to help her into the fishing boat, "What you did for Amila, it was a refreshing sight to see."

"I have a question for you," Samara said as the King untied the boat from the dock and tossed the rope in.

The King hopped in and pushed the tip of the oar against the dock, setting the boat in motion. He sat down and started rowing to the middle, the trail of water behind them slowly illuminating blue as the water was gently disturbed. "Yes, my love?"

"How do your merchants establish trade here?" Samara did not beat around the bush.

"Well, they bring their goods, and as long as they have diversity, fair prices, and they don't prove to be ominous, they are generally allowed to trade in this kingdom."

"Do you believe Amila's father to be a good man?"

The King kept rowing until they were in the middle of the lagoon. "Yes, he has no transgressions against the kingdom or its citizens."

"I believe he is a good man and a good father as well." Samara looked out into the lagoon, where the fish had a blue outline as they swam and gently disturbed the water under the boat. "…but his circumstances don't prove to be so kind to him and his daughter."

"What makes you say so?" The King put the oars in the boat as they gently rocked in the middle of the lagoon, enjoying the privacy it provides. They could still hear the faint singing and laughter of the city celebrating the festival.

"I'd say Amila is between 8 to 10 years old. Yet, when I asked her the price for her beautiful creations, she barely knew how to count." Samara had the look of defeat in her eyes.

The King started pondering her point, "They most likely have very little. Still, they charge so little for such beautiful jewelry."

"Unfortunate circumstances…" Samara looked up at the King, "It is great for your country's economy that affordable trade is circulated in the market. However, is the cost of cheap production someone's entire childhood? Amila is a young, vibrant girl. Don't you think she should be allowed to be a child, explore and learn, discover herself, instead of having to help her family earn money?"

The King had no words, "I… have never thought so deeply about such matters."

"This is a beautiful country you have established, Sinbad." Samara reassured, "I simply recommend that you look closer, instead of trying to solve problems in the grand scheme. The reason you are half-fallen – it's not your own darkness inside of you, it's everyone else's."

The King was dumbfounded. All he knew at the time, all he believed was that he was helping the citizens of his kingdom by absorbing all their Black Rukh.

"Instead of allowing them an opportunity to grow and doing the hard work to help them overcome the path of the Black Rukh, you took on the burden all by yourself." Samara held his hand, and she continued in her soft, calming voice, "You mentioned you have become someone you don't recognize, someone you have never wanted to be."

The King gulped, reminiscing about his adventures.

Her eyes surveyed him, searching for something or _someone_ through the windows of his soul. "In Samaria, the economy is based on making each individuals' little dreams come true."

He remembered what she said before, understanding it like an epiphany unfolding before him, "…measuring wealth through health, happiness, and equality – This is what you meant?"

"Correct, by helping fulfill each citizen's little dreams, not only do you help them grow, help them stay on the path of the White Rukh, but you give them something bigger than themselves that they want to fight for," she explained, as she continued to search his eyes intently. "What about you, what are your little dreams? Who do you want to be, Sinbad? What do you want to fight for?"

Remembering his parents and his little town in the Parthevia Empire, recalling the events that led him to be half-fallen, he searched for the answer to her question. "I—For the longest time, the only goal I knew was to make the world a better place."

"A better place for who?"

"As a child, my parents had nothing. My father was called to serve his country by fighting in the war that severely injured him, a battle that took his left leg. My mother died of a curable disease, but we did not have the money to pay for a healer and his potions." Recalling such painful events inevitably made the King's tears well up.

"However, you never harbored any hatred or the slightest ill-intent, and you never assigned any blame to anyone." Samara continued to hold his right hand with both of hers, gently rubbing her thumbs across the back of his hand. Through this small skin contact, she is able to read his Rukh, and she cannot find Black Rukh that stems from his own painful experiences. "The Sinbad of that time, before anything awful ever happened, before the Sinbad now aimed to save the entire world, who did he want to be?"

"I… I just wanted to help my father catch fish out in the sea," Sinbad responded helplessly, a tear falling from his left eye.

"There you are, Sinbad…" She called out as if finding him again after the real him, the simple and helpful Sinbad who had been shut out by ambition and swallowed entirely by his big dreams. She reminded him of simpler times he had long forgotten and did not even know he still wanted.

"Thank you, Samara." The King uttered, unable to completely express his gratitude to the woman he loves for grounding him once again, making him vulnerable and giving him a clear perspective of his own life. He wiped the blurring tears away from his eyes and stared into the windows of her soul, "I love you… an incomprehensible amount. Yet, I fall deeper in love with you every day. It is a feeling I'm quite fond of. Spend the rest of your life with me."

Samara smiled, holding her hand up to his left cheek, "I hope you understand that I am not ready to give you an answer quite yet."

"I'll wait for you, however long it takes." Sinbad took her hands and kissed them right above the knuckles, smiling back at her as he gazed into her deep blue eyes.

She gazed back into his golden eyes, and they both engraved this memory in their hearts and minds… a monumental landmark of the start to their forever.


	10. Malice in Magnostadt

**DISCLAIMER:** _Magi_ and other discernible characters/quotes/citations belong to their respective authors. I do not own original content _Magi_. No profits were made.

 **COVER CREDITS:** MAGI THE LABYRINTH OF MAGIC BY SHINOBU OHTAKA (c). Cover Credits: Original Fan Character by Aladdina.

Cited: magi. Fandom wiki

 **A/N #11: The big TEN! OhMGosh! Thank you guys for sticking with me & my word vomits through thick and thin.**

 **A/N #8a: Repolished chapter 7-8, yet again. Not much has changed, just bridged a few scenes together so the story flows better. Still worth the recap before starting 9-10~**

-0-0-0-

 **Magi**

 **Chapter X: Malice in Magnostadt**

The morning after the Mahrajan festival…

Ja'Far barged into the King's office in the White Capricorn Tower. "King Sinbad, reports came in from Magnostadt—" He stopped at the sight of Samara, standing to the left of the King.

They were looking at maps of Magnostadt, getting ready for their voyage. Samara took her hands away from the table and turned to Ja'Far. "I can return later if you need to talk about urgent matters with Sinbad."

The King held up his hand to stop Samara from packing up and leaving the room, "It's alright, Ja'Far. You may proceed."

The general unwillingly cleared his throat to continue, "I-It seems they've officially declared war on the Rem empire today. They have called off all diplomatic negotiations and sealed off their borders. In response, the Rem have deployed their troops. War has broken out."

"You were right, Samara." The King reaffirmed.

"Right about what…?" Ja'Far asked, his tone filled with skepticism.

"I woke up today with a heavy feeling weighing on my chest." Samara clarified. "A premonition, perhaps. There is a darkness in this world that has been growing for some time now. It has the same malicious energy as the entity of the Black Rukh that destroyed our old world. The reason why Aladdin went to Magnostadt, I believe something bad is bound to happen there if we don't stop it," she further explained with worry on her face.

Sinbad asked Ja'Far to call for a meeting with all of his generals and his officials in the White Capricorn Tower's strategy room. There was a big round table that displayed a carved, wooden replica of the map of Sindria. Everyone was seated when the King and Samara came in and grabbed a seat at the table.

"Thank you for coming in so early after the festival, everyone." The King addressed his administrators.

"Why have you called us here, my King?" One of the officials asked.

"I plan to travel again with Samara, to accompany her in Magnostadt."

"Is this about Aladdin? What is their relationship?" Another official asked.

"It is not a matter for us to discuss here," Yamraiha interjected, correcting the track of the conversation. "The King called us here to assign duties while he's gone for this voyage."

"There is an ominous power, further proving Al-Tharmen's existence, growing stronger and stronger in Magnostadt. We will need the force of the Metal Vessel Users of the Seven Seas Alliance to stop it." The King explained, vaguely. "Each of my generals will travel and gather the Alliance to meet us in Magnostadt. Ja'Far and Masrur will stay here in Sindria to represent me and to ensure safety while the rest of the generals are away."

The meeting was brief as they have protocols for when Sinbad travels, something he does quite often. The civil officials went on to attend their daily duties, and Masrur arranged for their transport.

"I have to finish writing some letters to the leaders of the Seven Seas Alliance. I'll find you in a bit." The King kissed Samara's forehead.

She smiled excitedly and worriedly all at the same time. "I'll see you in a bit…"

The King smiled back and watched her walk away, hanging onto her fading scent, barely able to wait until the next moment he held her in his arms again.

Samara smiled and bowed to everyone she came across on the way to her bedchambers. Once she got there, she had an important task to complete. She needed to speak with Lian…

Once again, she casted a clairvoyance spell on her mirror. This time it was the Samarian Holy Priest that greeted her.

"Priestess Samara," Lian called out, "I received your urgent message. I gathered the previous Spiritual Leaders and the current students. How can we help?"

"Greetings, everyone." She said, ominously, "Solomon's Wisdom revealed to me over the last few days… There is a grave danger looming over Magnostadt. Al-Tharmen—they will make their attempt to manifest Il Ilah into this world. They will do so tomorrow."

"Ugo's plan…" One of the older Spiritual Leaders muttered, "We must put it into action."

"Yes, our destiny calls…" Another Spiritual Leader agreed.

Lian was still confused, "Please, tell the rest of us how we can help."

Samara started to explain, "Ugo knew this day would come, which is precisely why he installed a failsafe into the mechanism of the staff. All of the previous Spiritual Leaders must descend in the pool and travel to the Great Rift so that the key to the Sacred Palace may be removed momentarily. You all must find strength in numbers and act as the replacements of the staff so the barrier in the Great Rift does not collapse, and to ensure that magoi is not depleted from one single person. Lian, you must travel through the dimensional tunnels to remove the staff and deliver it safely to this world. Once you have done so, you will use a Magic Transfer Circle to transport the staff right into my hands. I will seal Il Ilah in the Sacred Palace." She took a moment to make peace with her next statement, "If I fail… Aladdin will continue the task and ensure the staff is returned to Lian so that he may put it back as a vital foundation of the Rift. Thus, ensuring that you may all return safely."

Everyone in Samaria had been preparing their entire lives for this moment. However, even when this moment has arrived, they all still fell silent, unable to firmly root their resolve. It is a heavy burden to be a Samarian Priest and Priestess. Yet, these brave souls are willing to risk it all for the betterment of humanity.

"We will be ready, Priestess…" Lian reaffirmed.

"Yes, you can count on us, Samara." The same older Priest reassured.

"Thank you for your sacrifice, everyone." Samara broke the spell once more.

She collected herself herself back up from the chair. She took out the ring around her neck and tears started falling from her eyes. She was so close… so close to meeting her brothers in this lifetime, so close to actually believing she can have a life after the chaos settles, so close to allowing Sinbad see all of her. She was so close… yet, so far.

She allowed herself to fall apart today, right now. Then, she picked herself back up and remained strong. _One more day…_ She had one more day and she was not going to give up on that one sliver of chance.

After a few moments…

Sinbad knocked on her door, and she opened it momentarily. He walked in on her in the middle of breakfast, unaware of the burdens she carries. It wasn't his fault though, she hid it well with her smile – it was more masking than the veil she wore.

"I haven't had a chance to greet you good morning," he smiled a sly and accomplished smile, returning by her side after finishing his duties and errands.

She had a strawberry in one hand, the doorknob in the other, and a gentle smile across her face, "Good morning, Sin. Have you had anything to eat yet?"

"No, I would love to join you." He said, taking a step into the room and giving her a delicate kiss on the cheek.

They sat down at the breakfast table on the balcony, enjoying the warm sunshine and the cool breeze.

"Masrur is readying the ships as we speak, getting a crew together to travel with us to Magnostadt." The King reported.

She took a bite out of her strawberry, and nervously said, "…to meet Aladdin."

The King noticed her uneasiness and assumed the obvious – that she was nervous and anxious to meet Aladdin. "There's no need to be anxious, although it's normal to feel that way. I will be with you every step of the way." He held her hand on the table.

"Say, are you afraid at all?" She asked as the King reached for food across the table.

The King took a bite of the omelet on his plate. "Yes, of course. However, you give me strength and courage… loving you – it makes me strong enough to fight for my little dreams."

They gazed into each other's eyes. _One more day…_ _one more chance…_

"Promise me, Sinbad." Samara held his hand tightly, "Promise me you'll live to hear my answer to your proposal."

The King locked his gaze as his heart skipped a beat, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

They were interrupted once again by a knock on the door. Masrur's voice echoed, "King Sinbad, the ship will be ready at the next toll of the bell, about an hour and a half from now. Please be prepared to set sail."

Samara looked at the bedroom door, and then back at Sinbad. She is so close… yet, so far.

Sinbad smiled to try to ease her worries, "Well, can I help you pack?"

She smiled back, her spirits lifted even just a little bit.

After they have packed their belongings, the bells tolled shortly after. They walked to the docks and boarded the smaller ship with a merchant's flag. Sinbad did not want to raise any suspicions or endanger anyone if the Rem forces spot a Sindrian flag approaching.

"Set sail!" The captain exclaimed to the crew from the helm, and the ship started off slow but smoothly picked up speed as it got away from land. The air was crisp and telling about the forthcoming ominous events…

Samara settled in on the deck. "How far away is Magnostadt from here?"

The King stood by her, overlooking the ocean.

The captain at the helm responded to her question, "We should be there this time tomorrow morning."

"We should keep our distance first. In case the Rem troops arrive before us." The King advised.

"It is the smart choice, we can watch from afar using my clairvoyance magic." Samara agreed.

The King and Samara walked into the cabin to pass the time. In the afternoon, Sinbad taught Samara how to fish using a pole that he crafted himself. It was a good distraction as they laughed and hauled in quite the catch for dinner. They served it for the entire crew.

"We are cruising at a faster pace, thanks to the winds." The captain relayed. "We should be in Magnostadt waters by the time the sun is up."

The King rolled out a smaller map, pointing at an inlet at the bottom of the Rem Empire, "Good, the dawn should give us enough time to find coverage around this piece of land so that we can stay hidden from the battle. It will be troublesome if they find the King of Sindria lurking about in the middle of their war."

"It should be enough distance for me not to get detected while using the minimum amount of magoi needed for clairvoyance," Samara confirmed.

"It is set, then. It should be a smooth plan with little to no hiccups." The captain reassured, almost foreshadowing or jinxing a bad omen.

They ate the wonderful meal made by the King and Samara together, and then they slept on hammocks in the main cabin, the crew below deck.

The next morning, Samara walked out onto the deck first. The captain pointed to the sun rising in the west, right over the mountains of Magnostadt. "Welcome, miss. We have arrived."

She took his hand and said, "Thank you, Captain, for delivering us safely."

"You're very welcome, miss. It was my pleasure."

Samara walked out onto the bow and said a little prayer with her eyes closed. The King walked up to her shortly after.

"Are you ready to make one of your little dreams come true, Samara?" The King asked, placing a hand across the small of her back.

"In truth, I feel afraid." Samara placed a hand on the King's chest. "What if he doesn't even recognize me?"

"Aladdin is strong. He will sense in you the same Rukh flowing within him, your father's Rukh." He placed the other hand gently under her chin and gave her a light rub before hugging her. Her head fit perfectly underneath his chin, and her head pressed against his chest. She could hear his steady heartbeat, calming her.

When the sun rose fully, they saw Rem empire flags waving on a fleet of at least fifty ships from afar.

The King collapsed his telescope after confirming. "My generals should be on their way here now."

"Then, it will begin soon…" Samara drew a circle on the deck with some white chalk with symbols around it. She held out her hand and lifted water from the sea onto the ring, strangely enough, the seawater did not spill across the white lines. She knelt down and put her hands a couple of inches away from her drawings. "I will use clairvoyance magic by focusing on Aladdin's Rukh. We will be able to see what he sees."

"Understood…" Sinbad knelt next to her.

She closed her eyes, and the seawater in the ring started to glow in yellow, "Solomon's Wisdom!" Samara sat upright, still kneeling in front of the clairvoyance loop.

[[ A/N: For further imagery, and a refresher on the Shinobu Ohtaka plot, please watch Magi: The Kingdom of Magic: Ep. 19-25. This is where my fanfic timeline collides with the original story by Ohtaka-san. ]]

Everyone on the merchant ship tuned into the events unfolding before them. Aladdin had just taken off the stone from his arm that was blocking his powers as a Magi – a sorcerer of creation. After a few moments, an abundant amount of magoi started flowing inside of his body. The Fanalis troop were still trying to break through the barrier protecting Magnostadt using Black Radiance, a Type 7 Strength Magic. Three of the Fanalis Corps were almost able to break through the barrier when three giant Ugos emerged from the earth. Evidently, they were wielded by Aladdin as evidenced by the visible wings of the magoi flushed into him by the White Rukh. Nobody could comprehend the extent of his powers until he raised his wooden staff and pointed it toward and above the Fanalis troops while he was floating mid-air.

"Harlharl Infigare!" He exclaimed, pushing out an intimidation fire attack from the three giants' hands that reached the shore. "I will bring this war to an end, without sending a single soul back to the Great White Flow." He pointed the giants toward the Rem fleet and marched them towards the invaders.

The Rem forces charged with their entire battalion on land only to be swept back to shore by the sand avalanche effect used by the giants. Aladdin was also able to mend the damage to the barrier and restore it to its former glory.

"Look around you! Despite your efforts, you're back at square one. Conquering Magnostadt would mean starting your offense over and over again because I will only continue to use my power to push your forces back again and again and again!" Aladdin declared, effectively killing their fighting spirit. "Even if your troops manage to get through me, your troops will be met by the Magicians of Magnostadt – they will fight for their country to the bitter end. You can't take their home away from them! Soldiers of Rem, I beg you to return home!"

Watching from afar, Samara could not help but smile proudly at the impressive person her brother has grown to be. "He really is the embodiment of our father and Sheba…"

After witnessing Muu deplete all of his magoi against Aladdin, Scheherezade withdrew her forces back.

"I cannot let you drive these people to the ground, Lady. There are many dark triggers that dwell in the lands of Magnostadt. They stem from the Magicians' hatred, the magoi accumulation furnace, their connection to a secret organization called Al-Tharmen – they all fuel Black Rukh that can be summoned into our world and obliterate everything it touches! We cannot let that happen all over again." Aladdin informed Scheherezade, bringing the war to a temporary cease-fire so that they may speak in private on neutral waters.

During this time, the Lady revealed that she is a clone of the real Scheherezade. She also divulges that she is, in fact, 268 years old and that her real body is unable to take even a single step. She told her secrets to Aladdin in hopes of establishing trust, "Now, tell me, Aladdin. What is it that you're so afraid of?"

Meanwhile, on the merchant ship… Samara and Sinbad are still watching through Aladdin's eyes. The crew opted to hide below deck to avoid the fight, safely surrounded by a borg that Samara created around them.

"Samara…" The King had some suspicious before and he wanted to bury them in a place where they would never materialize, but after hearing the conversation that unfolded before him, he had a firmness of resolve in his tone, "Please tell me the reason why even as the first Magi to ever be created, even being King Solomon's daughter, you seem to be physically weaker than Aladdin? Please tell me the reason you are unable to give me an answer to my marriage proposal."

"Oh, Sinbad, I can't get anything past you…" Samara smiled nostalgically, " Ugo intended for us to be the Original Three Magi from Solomon's bloodline… He sent us out into this world in hopes of preventing the tragedy of Alma Torran from happening again. My brother, Jedidiah's soul, was implanted into a human body compatible with reincarnating into this world as a Magi. My brother, Aladdin, was still in his fetus form, and in the thousand years we spent in the Sacred Palace, Ugo was able to perform magic to allow his young, versatile, and pliable body to be compatible with this world. Unfortunately for me, I retain my original Magician body from Alma Torran."

"How long?" The King asked. He couldn't even look at the woman he loves. He was just angry at the situation and the cards they were dealt with.

Samara remained quiet.

"How long," The King's voice cracked a bit, finally finding the courage to look at this fleeting treasure, "How long before your Magician's body from the Old World deteriorates?"

"No one really knows as I am an aberration in this world's natural order, just as much as Scheherezade's clones." Samara held the King's cheek. "There is a way, Sinbad…" Samara looked down, contemplating the choice, "…a way for me to live out my days in a body that is compatible with this world."

"Tell me! Tell me, and I'll make it happen." The King declared.

Samara smiled, "It doesn't work like that, Sinbad. Only Ugo can grant me such a request, and it is something I chose not to do."

"Why, not…?" The King felt defeated.

"It is an impossible choice, Sinbad. In order for me to have a human lifespan, I will have to revoke everything that ties me to the Old World. Everything that makes me my father's daughter, all of his magic running through my blood, Solomon's Wisdom, they will have to be stripped away entirely for Ugo to be able to turn me into a human being of this world." Samara had a helpless look in her eyes. "It is not something I want… At least, not until the threat of Al-Tharmen is gone and I no longer need the power of Solomon. Defeating my mother's organization using my father's magic – that is my purpose in this world."

"I can't lose you…" The King took her hand away from his cheek and held it next to his heart.

"It will not be today, Sin. I have seen the same vision Aladdin has seen using Solomon's Wisdom," Samara said confidently, "As long as Al-Tharmen doesn't succeed today, we will have time to at least figure things out."

"Then, we have to ensure their failure." The King made a commitment to his love.

They returned to watching Aladdin through clairvoyance…

Aladdin looked down with sadness at Lady Scheherazade's question, "I am afraid that Director Mogamett will play a big part in making Al-Tharmen's wish to fruition – to recreate the destruction in Alma Torran. They are very close to achieving that wish. At this point, they only lack one thing – The Dark Void – a hole in this world created from vast quantities of magoi from Black Rukh, an incarnation of evil that will consume all of the White Rukh it touches. I have never told anyone about this vision that I saw that day in Balbadd because I didn't want to add to anyone's worries."

Alibaba yelled at him for not telling him sooner and carrying such a heavy burden on his own. Alibaba offered that they were supposed to think of a solution together, as friends.

 _All this time, he felt the same way as me…_ Samara thought upon hearing her brother's confession. _It's a good thing he has great friends to lean on. Now, I have such friends as well._ She smiled at this notion.


	11. Meeting Aladdin

**DISCLAIMER:** _Magi_ and other discernible characters/quotes/citations belong to their respective authors. I do not own original content _Magi_. No profits were made.

 **COVER CREDITS:** MAGI THE LABYRINTH OF MAGIC BY SHINOBU OHTAKA (c). Cover Credits: Original Fan Character by Aladdina.

Cited: magi. Fandom wiki

 **A** **/N: Hello again, friends! I have uploaded a few pictures on FB that go with the chapters… since I am still working on writing imagery, I figured it would help you guys visualize what I have in my imagination. Please check out the album – LINK IN BIO!**

 **A/N: I think it would be helpful to rewatch Magi: The Kingdom of Magic: Ep. 19-25 because I described a few scenes from the anime/manga only in little detail here.**

-0-0-0-

 **Magi**

 **Chapter XI: Meeting Aladdin**

Samara felt the looming darkness suddenly get stronger as if it was activated. "It's happening now!" She stood up and leaned against the railing of the bow of the ship, gazing toward the flash of Black Rukh in the distance.

Dark Djinns started to emerge from the immense Black Rukh stemming from the palace at the center of the country, but instead of attacking the Rem fleet, they went the complete opposite way. Aladdin flew with Alibaba on his magic flying turban toward the opposite side of the island, where they helped the Kou Empire's Ren Kouha battle three Dark Djinns.

"Amon… Zel Saika!" Alibaba chanted, as he changed into his Djinn Equip and incinerated one of the Dark Djinns with a single thrust of Amon's sword.

Samara and Sinbad continued to watch the battle on the merchant ship using the clairvoyance loop. Aladdin, Alibaba, and the Kou troops were surrounded. Alibaba tried to use his extreme magic, but another player had the chance before him – the First Prince of the Rem Empire, and Legendary Dungeon Capturer, Ren Kouen. Alongside him was his rearguard. His three Household Members, wielding Agares, Astaroth, and Phoenix, showcased their abilities in fighting the Dark Djinn by channeling the White Rukh around them. Meanwhile, the First Prince used Phoenix's healing magic to treat his brother, Kouha, and the rest of the wounded vanguard.

Sinbad stood up and away from the clairvoyance ring. He held out his forearm to the air above his head, and a young giant bird, still relatively small, about the size of an eagle, from Artemyra, landed on him. He smiled as he knew what this meant, "We must get ready for battle as well, Samara."

"You're right." Samara agreed, and the last thing they saw from the clairvoyance loop was the Dark Djinns disappearing.

Little did everyone know that it was Titus's sacrifice that convinced Director Mogamett to stop commanding the magoi accumulation furnace to keep producing Dark Djinns. However, the furnace had become a crystallized ball of Black Rukh that is hungry to absorb more magoi around it, including the Director, himself. It was acting independently, and as it rose to the surface, it was like a magnet, attracting the entity of Il Ilah – the incarnation of evil trying to touch the New World and taint it black until there is no light to sustain life, no sound, no air, no movement – all to replenish it's magoi endlessly, by devouring worlds and the Rukh contained in them. Then, rebirthing a new world again, with a vast amount of brand new magoi created from the spark of creating a new world. This is the will of Il Ilah – a neverending cycle of magoi creation and destruction for the sole purpose of having an unlimited supply.

Aladdin pleaded with the King Vessels to pull back their troops before more people die, but no one wanted to listen and believe him. Just as Samara did with Sinbad once, Aladdin called out to the Djinns around him using Solomon's Wisdom, a golden symbol of an octagram inside a circle lit up in the middle of his forehead, "Let your Djinns tell you the truth about the Dark Void! Everyone, show yourselves!"

One by one, Prince Kouen's three Djinns – Agares, Astaroth, and Phoenix, showed their large blue physical bodies. Along with them, Prince Kouha's Djinn – Leraje, and Alibaba's Djinn – Amon. They all said in unison, "You summoned us, Magi? We are here."

Meanwhile, the Seven Seas Alliance, led by Yamraiha and Drakkon, rendezvoused where King Sinbad and Samara were docked, away from the battle. It was quite incredible seeing the Alliance on the backs of giant birds local to Artemyra.

"Just in time," The King said, looking up at them.

Samara started to untie her flying scarf from her waist. She flung it over her head and jumped on the piece of fabric flapping with the wind. She looked down at the King and held out her hand, proverbially asking him to join her in this adventure. Sinbad happily obliged, and they flew level with the Alliance.

"There is no time for introductions," Samara said, hurriedly. She knew there was only one way to win everyone's trust, "Solomon's Wisdom!"

One by one, Sinbad's seven Djinns made their presence known. Along with them, the Djinns from the Metal Vessels of the Alliance also showed their physical bodies.

Naturally, this feat of the children of Solomon astounded everyone and raised many questions, mainly boiling down to, " _How are you able to summon my own Djinn?_ "

Baal addressed the Alliance, "Just as Amon is explaining to the Kings on the other side of these waters – you, King Vessels and Metal Vessels must seal off the Dark Void just as we did in Alma Torran. The incarnation of evil will descend into this world through that hole in the eastern skies. Its hands will rob everything it touches of the White Rukh in their bodies – humans, animals, and plants alike – eliminating them from existence. This world will become a world of death. This will happen today. To stop it, you all must engage and destroy the Medium pulling down the Dark Lord, Il Ilah, from another dimension."

"The Medium?" Queen Artemina asked for clarification.

Sinbad responded, "It is the big ball of crystallized magoi and Black Rukh at the center of Magnostadt."

Samara agreed, "Yes, this is the very tool that Al-Tharmen used to create the abnormality of the world that will allow Il Ilah, the one they consider 'Father' to descend into this world."

"Well, it seems that we don't have time to waste, don't we?" Queen Artemina smiled at her old friend.

Samara nodded and smiled back.

During the time that they were being briefed on the events in Magnostadt, the seven Metal Vessel users fighting the battle have depleted their magoi, the Medium has turned into a large, moving man-like, powerful being with tentacles coming out of its shoulders where a head should be, and Il Ilah has reached his hand to the Medium and is slowly being pulled in.

To turn the tides around, King Sinbad Djinn Equipped using Baal and chanted, "Balalark Saika!" Sending a lightning bolt through the sky, striking the Medium and causing a massive explosion that removed the Medium's hold from Il Ilah.

Right behind him were Metal Vessel users of the Seven Seas Alliance, who were Djinn Equipping one by one as well – The Knight King of Sasan: Darius Leoxses, King Armakan of Heliohapt, Queen Artemina of Artemyra, and Chief Rametoto of Imuchakk.

"Who is that?" Aladdin looked up to see familiar and friendly faces, "Yam is here! And Drakkon, too!" There was one person he hasn't met yet but still recognized.

While the Djinns, its masters, and their Household members fought valiantly against the Medium, Sinbad flew closer to Aladdin and Alibaba, bringing Samara along with him on her flying scarf.

The King started, "All of this is thanks to the two people who grasped the situation quickly and summoned us here together, even though we were scattered around the world – Yunan, and Morgiana."

After this revelation, Alibaba completely depleted his magoi using his Djinn Equip and unwillingly returned to his human form, falling from the sky, but Morgiana was able to catch him and bring him to shore. This allowed Aladdin to focus on the task at hand – meeting his sister for the first time!

"I'll give you two some privacy," Sinbad flew down to shore to meet with Yunan and Alibaba.

"H-Hi…" Samara started, awkwardly. "It's nice to finally meet you, Aladdin. My name is—"

Before she could continue, Aladdin grabbed her hand and smiled, a smile she so easily remembered but had almost forgotten – Solomon's smile, "It's nice to finally meet my sister, too, Samara."

Samara chuckled, almost like a sigh of relief, followed by a smile, "We must destroy the Medium and seal Il Ilah back in the Sacred Palace where Ugo is waiting for him. However, after—after, I look forward to speaking with you."

"Me, too." Aladdin smiled back, and they both flew down onto the shore to meet with Alibaba, Yunan, and Sinbad. "Alibaba! Yunan! I want you guys to meet my older sister from Alma Torran."

Alibaba was dumbstruck, "What?! Another one of your Other Worldly secrets, Aladdin?!"

"It's nice to meet both of you. Thank you for taking such good care of Aladdin." Samara bowed.

"It's good to meet you as well, Princess Samara." Yunan greeted, with his free hand across his chest, giving a small polite bow. "I wish we had more time to speak, but we have a pressing task at hand."

"I agree. Let's all find each other later." The King encouraged.

"Alright! What is the plan, Samara?" Aladdin asked.

Samara turned toward the fight in front of them, "For now, we need to figure out a plan to stop the Medium and to vanquish Il Ilah from this realm." She showed the gentlemen the palms of her hands that have a Magic Transfer Circle drawn on them. "The key to the Sacred Palace is being guarded in my country, Samaria. The current Priest will transport the staff to me. I just need a window to push Il Ilah back to where it came from!"

"We'll get you that window," Yunan reassured.

Sinbad declared his intentions to the people involved in the war, "The Seven Seas Alliance – We shall neither conquer nor allow ourselves to _be_ conquered. Rem, Kou, and Magnostadt, we have no intentions of recklessly intervening between nations that have declared war." He walked toward the Medium to address it directly, "However, if you are an uninvited guest, forcing yourself upon our world," he activated his Djinn Equip, and made his magoi glow in a light blue tint, "we'll eliminate you. No matter what kind of god you may believe yourself to be."

Metal Vessel Users of the Rem Empire also came to join the fight. However, everyone's magoi was already at its limit. At this point, Lady Scheherezade performed a miracle by releasing all the magoi accumulated in her body throughout the years through her final act of Aberrant Extreme Magic. Her sacrifice restored everyone's magoi so that they may fight once more, allowing the twelve fighters from different empires to use their Extreme Magic to create an encircled octagram above the Medium. At the very center of the illuminated symbol in the sky was Sinbad, Djinn Equipped as Baal.

The King exclaimed the final chant, "Extreme Magic, Balalark Inquerade Saika!" He forcefully stabbed right above the Medium, causing an explosion on the water.

However, the Medium seemed to only grow bigger. Only this time, the Medium seemed to be hesitant in attacking. Yunan explained that the person at the Medium's core had a single speck of white light fighting the Black Rukh. Weakening the Medium allowed the White Rukh to shine through.

Aladdin resolved to see the person at the Medium's core once and for all – Director Mogamett. Yamraiha asked to come with to see her adoptive father, to tell him something one last time.

"Yamraiha," Samara called out as she walked closer to her, "make sure you tell him. Take your chance while you still can and tell him what you need him to know. He knows it already, but if you don't tell him yourself, you'll be left full of regret." She advised as if she has experienced this feeling first-hand.

Yamraiha nodded, "Mm, I will make sure of it."

Samara turned to her brother, "Aladdin… do what you must. Save as many people as you can. While you're in there, I will do my best to seal Il Ilah away for good."

He nodded and started to chant, "Solomon's Wisdom!" Aladdin transported their consciousness inside of the Medium.

Once there, they saw a black lump of fully assimilated Black Rukh encaging the Director. The speck of White Rukh inside was Titus Alexius's rukh stopping Director Mogamett's actions, allowing him to feel regret for his wrongdoings while he was gripped by hatred and his selfish reasonings. Inside of the Medium, they saw all of the souls of the people that Matal Mogamett had led into depravity to achieve Al-Tharmen's goal. As Samara explained in her earlier encounters with the King, someone who dies after falling completely can never go back to the Great Flow of the White Rukh. Upon realizing this, the Director asks Aladdin to promise he'll find a way to restore souls to their original state before straying from their path, even though this process has never been discovered before. Director Mogamett also realizes all the good he's done in the world for his adoptive daughter, Yamraiha, all of the teachings he left to his students, and everyone he's helped throughout his life, and this is what finally helped him break out of the Medium's hold – his White Rukh shining through and shattering the Medium completely.

"Here's your window, Samara!" The King yelled while he was floating mid-air.

Lian and the other nine Spiritual Leaders were already submerged in the pool, channeling into Samara's rukh through clairvoyance magic so that they could see what she was seeing.

Samara jumped off of her scarf and flew using her magoi by channeling immense Rukh around her that everyone could see as little white whisps, like butterflies with wings that sang in a high-pitched tone. "Now, Lian!"

As Samara was ascending toward the Dark Void, the previous Samarian Priests and Priestesses submerged their bodies in the pool, traveled through the dimensional tunnels of the Great Rift, and enacted Ugo's plan. Lian successfully retrieved the staff, and he was able to move through the dimensional tunnels alone with the staff guiding him home. He emerged from the pool, gasping one long inhale, with the coveted prize at hand as the three students awaited him with the Magic Transfer Circle. Samara was about halfway to the tentacles of the Dark Void when Lian successfully transported the staff into the Transfer Circle on her hands.

Samara grasped the staff with both hands, holding it vertically, parallel to her body. An abundance of the White Rukh butterflies emanated from her while incanting, "Solomon's Wisdom!"


	12. Solomon's Wisdom

**DISCLAIMER:** _Magi_ and other discernible characters/quotes/citations belong to their respective authors. I do not own original content _Magi_. No profits were made.

 **COVER CREDITS:** MAGI THE LABYRINTH OF MAGIC BY SHINOBU OHTAKA (c). Cover Credits: Original Fan Character by Aladdina.

Cited: magi. Fandom wiki

 **A/N: Thank you all again for your patience and loyalty. I appreciate yall's time, feedback, and support always. HAPPY READING!**

 **A/N: Please let me know what you think about my latest updates. I would like to know where you would like to see areas of improvement and any suggestions you might have.**

-0-0-0-

 **Magi**

 **Chapter XII: Solomon's Wisdom**

Even though Samara was able to use Solomon's Wisdom, accomplishing such a difficult feat, like vanquishing Il Ilah's entity into another dimension, was quickly depleting her magoi. She tried to influence the White Rukh around her to take in more magoi, but it was exhausted faster than it could be replenished. Her hands started shaking, her flight started wavering – she was fighting a losing battle.

That was when Sinbad flew next to her, on the left, and conjured his Extreme Magic once more, aiming it towards Il Ilah, giving Samara the assist she needed so that she might be able to use the staff to unlock the Sacred Palace and shut Il Ilah away permanently, where Ugo awaited for the evil incarnate.

Even with both the High King of the Seven Seas and Solomon's firstborn daughter driving Il Ilah back into the Sacred Palace, the task was still challenging to complete. Finally, Aladdin flew up to the right of his sister to join the fight.

Samara turned to her youngest brother, "Aladdin, stop! You need to live! If I fail—"

"If I don't help you now, you definitely will fail! Now is not the time to be stubborn!" Aladdin did not have Baba's staff anymore to direct his powers. All he had was his magic flute, the metal vessel that housed Ugo's body. He pointed the flute towards Il Ilah and chanted, "Solomon's Wisdom!"

The King turned to Samara and encouraged her, "Do not falter, Samara! I'm going to keep my promise to you and live through this. I will live through this so that you can tell me your little dreams, and I can help you realize them!" The King struggled to propel Il Ilah as it was resisting being pushed into the Sacred Palace, "I will live through this so that you can tell me your answer… to my marriage proposal!"

Aladdin was taken aback for a moment and abruptly turned his head towards the couple, "Your what?!"

Samara looked down and couldn't help but smile. _My little dreams… The reasons I want to fight to live another day in this world… They're right here… I am so close… against all the odds stacked against me, I will triumph!_

With that final act of bravery, the trio successfully vanquished Il Ilah, and Ugo met him with a smile. Ugo was able to put Il Ilah in an aquarium, which was a lower-order world, and he could create and destroy worlds over and over again to his heart's content without harming a single living being.

[[ A/N: To clarify, the beginning of this fight against Il Ilah was from the Magnostadt Arc with Director Mogamett. Yes, the ending of the battle was from the Final Arc. Yes, I know I am skipping a lot of Shinobu Ohtaka plot and just mashing arcs/plots together. That's okay, though. This is a fanfic, please trust in the process, and I promise I will deliver. We still have quite the journey ahead together! ]]

Samara turned to Aladdin and weakly held up the staff, "Aladdin, please take the key. Send it back to Lian. Our friends…"

Aladdin took the staff in his hand.

Her magoi was almost entirely depleted, "They're counting on us…" she managed to utter before starting to fall just as Alibaba did when his magoi was exhausted earlier. Sinbad was able to catch her before she plummeted down, carrying her like the graceful princess that she is.

They flew down on level-ground, and Aladdin drew a Magic Transfer Circle on the earth, the same as the one on Samara's hands. He successfully transported the staff, so that Lian could bring it back to the Great Rift and trade it in place of the Elder Spiritual Leaders.

Samara was still in Sinbad's arms – unconscious, barely hanging onto what little life she had left. "Can you help her?" The King pleaded to Aladdin.

Aladdin turned his attention to them after fulfilling his sister's request. "Sinbad, let me see her…" He put his hands over her body and chanted, "Yoah Reg!"

The First Prince, Kouen, walked up to them and sniggered, "This type of healing magic only cures fatigue and helps with pain by inducing a strong sleep-like state. She is still dying, only slower."

Aladdin had a look of defeat as he looked down at his sister, both of them helpless. "I—I don't know how else to help her!"

"Step aside, baby Magi." Prince Kouen pulled out his sword, startling everyone.

Sinbad held Samara closer and blocked the tip of the Prince's sword with the gauntlet on his left forearm, challenging his intentions.

"You, too, idiot King." The Prince tapped on his gauntlet. Kouen put the tip of his sword in the middle of Samara's chest and replenished her magoi using his metal vessel, Phoenix. Thus, saving her life. Samara started to blink her eyes open, weakly. "You don't need to thank me."

Alibaba and Morgiana also came up to the little group. Alibaba extended his hand to Aladdin to help him stand up. The trio bumped their fists together as a small act of celebration for, well, saving the world.

However, it's not happily ever after yet! Now that their common enemy is gone, King Sinbad and Prince Kouen, both still Djinn Equipped, stood against each other.

Aladdin rushed to the middle of them, "No, wait a minute! Stop! You promised to pull your troops back, Mister Kouen!"

"No, why do you think we have come here in the first place?" The Prince did not break eye contact with the King, "Our opponents might have been switched out, but this has always been our objective – Magnostadt."

The King simply smiled, "The Seven Seas Alliance has officially become allies with the empire of Rem."

Muu verified, "He speaks the truth. It was Lady Scheherezade's last wish to forge this brand new alliance before leaving this world."

The King added, "There's no force other than the Seven Seas Alliance that can match Rem and Kou. Yet, we have joined forces. It means you will have to fight both of our armies right here and now if you wished to continue."

The Prince gritted his teeth upon realizing the King's cunning and calculative methods.

"Moreover, after partially destroying the country ruled by General Yamraiha's adoptive father, I can't, in good conscience, leave it to you. The Alliance will spare no effort towards rebuilding Magnostadt."

The younger Prince Kouha gnashed his molars in annoyance, "That bastard! He calculated this all from the start!"

The First Prince countered by grabbing Aladdin and declaring he will claim him as his Magi. "We promised, right?"

"Y-Yeah…" Aladdin uttered, hesitantly.

The King smirked, "You're more of a handful than I expected." He deactivated his Djinn Equip and sheathed his sword, encouraging the Alliance and the Kou empire to deactivate their Djinn Equips as well.

As everyone was distracted, no one seemed to notice another Magi in the distance – Judar, along with his new King's Candidate, Hakuryuu. Judar collected the Black Rukh released from the Medium and the Dark Void using his Magic Wand. Right after getting what he came for, he portaled out of Magnostadt.

"Ah," Samara perked up upon realizing the disappearance of the Black Rukh around her. She looked in the direction where Judar and Hakuryuu were floating, but no one was there anymore.

[[ A/N: At the end of Magi: Kingdom of Magic ep. 25, Titus Alexius is reincarnated back into the New World. I was reading up on his role after his sacrifice in the Magnostadt Arc, and TBH, he's kinda useless after his reincarnation. Also, there's that plothole of having a _Three_ Wise Magi system… So, for now, we'll just keep him dead in this alternate world/ending fic. ]]

Samara stood next to Sinbad, and she held his forearm, a sorrowful expression forming across her face. "Sinbad…" she started with a regretful tone, "we may have won this battle, but it's only the beginning."

The King held her arms, just above the elbows, a pained expression starting to form across his face. "Judar…"

Samara locked her eyes with his as if making an unspoken promise, "…I must go to him."

Sinbad was disgruntled by this fact as he gripped her arms tighter, but he knew he had to let her go. "I…" he started halfheartedly, his head and his gaze slowly falling to the ground, "…I understand…"

She held his face in her palms, "Yes."

His eyes perked up, gazing into her blue eyes with excitement and confusion. He scanned her eyes and her face for clarification. "Yes?"

Samara nodded at the King, "Yes… I would love to marry you." She rubbed her thumbs on his cheeks, "I want nothing more than to spend a human lifetime with you and fulfill all of _our_ little dreams."

The King could not believe what he was hearing. He could not contain his happiness. He simply picked her up and spun her around, his smile stretching from molar to molar. He set her down and gave her a passionate, long kiss. Pulling away from her a little, he whispered, "Spend one more night with me before you go."

Samara blushed, realizing the King's new proposition. She pursed her lips, smiled, and gave him a slight nod.

The King took one last hard look on Samara as if memorizing her features and expressions right at this moment, before turning to address the First Prince of the Kou empire. "Prince Kouen, my future wife has a proposition for you."


End file.
